Labels or Love?
by bethybaby008
Summary: What happens when LA's biggest diva meets LA's most insecure celeb? AU.
1. Chapter 1

**New story, new fandom.**

**Just thought I would experiment with this, I've been rewatching SoN for ages now and I love some of the storys on here. I've also had this idea in my head for ages now and thought I'd try to fit it into this fandom**

**Sorry for the shortness, I always find getting started to be the hardest bit...**

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><p><strong>Labels or Love?<strong>

Chapter One

I settle my Prada shades on the bridge of my nose as I climb on top of the table in order to get the best view and relax. Leaning back on my elbows and trying to look nonchalant I survey the scene unfolding before me, striking my usual pose as LA's biggest diva.

A growing crowd had gathered around, accompanying a few stray photographers which had managed to make it past King High's security guards. A large and flashy limo had just pulled up in the school's parking lot. Everything about it, from the flashy alloy wheels to the way the sunlight glinted off the reflective windows, screamed money; they typical limousine one would associate with Vuitton and Versace and Prada…

A collective gasp sounded from the crowd as the door of the black limousine swung open. A moment passed in utter silence before emerging from the confinement of the car, to much awaited anticipation, came a battered old converse sneaker, shortly followed by a pair of worn out jeans, a baggy tee-shirt and a baseball cap, shielding the wearers face slightly from the gawks and stares of her peers gathered around.

"Oh my God," came the voice of best friend, and possibly the second biggest diva in LA, Madison Duarte.

I peer sideways at the Latina, who was watching the newcomer over the top of her shades, her jaw dropped and an eyebrow quirked in disbelief.

Her shock was understandable; this was LA after all. And this was King High's newest and biggest '_celebrity_', who just ambled out of a limo in sneakers and jeans. Not even a label in sight.

I allow my gaze to wander back to the retreating newcomer, whose head was bowed with her cap pulled low over her eyes, hiding her face from the onslaught of questions and the clicking of cameras as she walked briskly towards the school.

I furrow my brow as I watch the door swing closed behind her. I've definitely seen it all now. Most girls in LA, heck even the guys as well, are so overcome with the 'rich bitch' look, and that's just the average citizen. When you've got money in LA you're practically God.

And let me emphasise, I _have_ money.

Well, my parents do. They made it pretty huge, my mother a successful surgeon, who set up her own private practise, and my father a councillor and lawyer to the stars, known for his high success rates. I mean I'm not going to actually tell you how much they earn a year…because I don't know, but I can tell you it's _a lot._

Just F.Y.I.

I'm pulled from my musings by a horrible sucky-squelshy sound, and I turn to find Madison attached to her boyfriend by the lips, her legs wound around his waist and his hands wandering to low for me to be comfortable sitting near them.

"Eugh," I screw my nose up in disgust as I pick up my Gucci bag and make to leave, throwing the old "get a room" comment over my shoulder as I walk away from the pair. I hear Maddy's giggle, followed by a hasty "Bye Spence-" which is almost certainly cut off by Aiden's mouth.

The bell goes shortly after I pick up my books from my locker and I begin to make my way to homeroom to be registered.

It's an absolutely pointless ten minutes at the start of every day, seeing as it only takes the teacher 2 seconds to register us. None the less, I plop into my usual chair beside the window and wait for Madison to sit beside me. No one even dares steal our seats in this class, in any class for that matter.

We will hurt them.

Bitches.

Oh, point to be made; no one fucks with me and Maddy.

I sort of feel like a gangster now. Smirking to myself, I pull out my iPod and push one bud into my ear, pressing play and allowing the music to fill my head as I recline in my seat. Madison enters the classroom a few minutes before the bell is due to go, and I smirk wider as I watch her straighten out her top and fix her smeared lipstick.

I swear to God her and Aiden are like fucking rabbits.

She sits down beside me, telling me to "shut up and stop smirking", mumbling that at least she's getting some.

I roll my eyes and begin flicking through songs on my iPod.

"Sorry I'm late."

A totally new voice sounds through the classroom and my eyes immediately flick to the doorway. The new girl stands in the doorway, clutching her cap in her hands and looking slightly bashful.

"Ah, Miss Davies I take it?" our form tutor, Mr. Willis, beams at her, beckoning her into the classroom.

"Yeah, Ashley," I smiles, revealing a row of sparkling white teeth and cute little dimples on her cheeks.

_Cute? _Seriously Spencer?

I roll my eyes at myself. I don't do cute, I do sexy. And I don't do converse and baggy tee-shirts, I do Dolce and Gabbana and other _designer_ shit.

I hear Madison exhale slowly, then whisper in my ear.

"_The_ Ashley Davies? As in daughter of Raife Davies? My dad fucking loves him."

I nod, not taking my eyes off my iPod as I continue to shuffle through the songs on it until the bell rings. This new hoe definitely is going to have to earn my time and attention. Or so I convince myself because apparently the increased beating of my heart tells me she already has it…

The rest of the school day passed slowly.

Or I would assume so, seeing as me and Maddy ditched to go shopping. Why the hell would I stay there and die of boredom? I could probably buy my grades out of there anyway.

It's getting late when I finally collapse into my bed and allowed the events of the day to wash over me.

News of this so-called _celebrity_ was not new gossip to me at all. Aiden's dad worked in real estate and had told us about the Davies' moving to town weeks ago, seeing as he had sold them the house.

I keep telling myself I was only surprised by her normality, because I was so used to seeing these up-themselves bitches that think they are the bees-knees because they are distantly related to someone famous.

I surprise myself my noticing how much this newcomer was playing on my mind. I haven't even spoken to her.

Perhaps I'm just worried that her celebrity status may challenge me and Maddy's role as Top Bitches at school. Although, come to think of it, I've never worried about popularity before. Maybe that's just because it came naturally to me.

Perhaps the only reason I feel strangely about her is because I feel slightly threatened…

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><p>I shift nervously in my chair as I watch the clock inch towards the final bell, fiddling self conciously with the hem of my tee-shirt.<p>

So far this day has been a nightmare.

I mean, first off there was a huge-assed crowd waiting for me in the limo my dad dubbed appropriate to drop me off to school in, _idiot_.

Secondly, everyone in this school has some kind of staring problem, and the only person whose eyes weren't glued to me the moment I walked into a room seemed like the biggest bitch in school.

Which brings me to the third reason; She. Was. Banging.

And I know for a fact that she is miles out of my league, seriously. I may be _'famous_' and what-not but I'm a total nerd.

There, I said it.

My social skills and zero.

Probably have my dad to blame for that. We've been on the move pretty much my whole life, shifting from pillar to post as he pursues his dreams. I guess I never really got the opportunity to make friends in any of the other cities we lived in so it doesn't come naturally to me.

I'm pretty sure I'm not going to fit in here.

Everyone's parading about in shorts so short I can see what they had for breakfast, tops so tight they leave my imagination going in over drive, everyone's super tan thanks to the beating sun and they all blend in together.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped into this school was how much I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Damn, I feel so insecure, _again._

So I continue to tap my pen against the desk in time with the ticking of the clock until the bell echoes throughout the school and I lose myself in the sea of students all scrambling for the exits.

I try to smile in a friendly manner to a few people who catch my eye while passing by, but already I can tell that popularity will not be my forte in this place.

At least, not unless I strut about in the typical LA fashion.

I watch most of the students turn their noses up at me, eyeing my clothes and pale skin with something akin to disgust.

I feel my mouth droop downwards.

As I amble home I watch the people go about their daily lives. And I realise that I'll never fit in here. I won't be seen dead in these types of clothes, anyone who is anybody only wears the flashiest designer brands, and though money is no issue, I've always been dead set on fitting in with normal, average people. I guess LA is totally different; whereas before I was struggling to be normal and get away from the celebrity image, here my normality makes me almost alienated.

I sigh heavily as I close the front door behind me.

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><p>The first few days of school pass by without interaction with the new girl. Yes, she is still called that in my book because she hasn't actually introduced herself to me yet.<p>

I'm a bitch, I know.

Come to think of it, I haven't really seen her interact with anyone; no whispering in call, no idle chit-chat by the lockers…I scan the crowds of students eating lunch under the Californian sun and spot her in the far corner of the campus, sitting at a table on her own. I take a moment to observe her outfit today; the same old battered converse as usual, today with a pair of loose cropped denim pants and a baggy grey Mickey Mouse tee-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a messy ponytail and her finger pushed a pair of thick-rimmed glasses up her nose. In short, this girl is a fashion disaster.

I hastily shove any thoughts of how she's still actually rather pretty out of my mind.

I mean I have _standards._

I quickly decide to voice my thoughts to Madison…except for those last few, they're getting locked away somewhere dark.

"This girl is a fashion disaster," I hear myself say, my eyes never leaving the lonesome girl at her lonesome table, looking pathetically lonesome. I hear the Latina surface from her and Aiden's latest make-out session with a horrible sucking sound before she notices where my gaze is directed at and quickly agrees.

"Damn, she just _screams_ celebrity," she states dryly, her piercing gaze scrutinizing as her words drip with sarcasm.

I can't help the pang of compassion I feel in my heart.

"I feel kinda bad for her," I say honestly.

The Latina snorts.

"No honestly," I continue, "she supposed to have it _made_ already; she's fucking famous and rolling in dosh, yet she can't even _make_ friends with people her own age…"

I trail off into incoherent mumblings, embarrassed that I went off on one about a strange, geeky child I don't even know.

"Jesus Spencer, calm yourself. She's clearly a nobody, famous or not, I mean look at her! And we do not associate with nobodies, do we baby?" Maddy adds, returning her attention to Aiden and planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"She's right Spence," he pipes up after they break apart, "I mean, she's supposedly famous, therefore she's clearly going to generate some interest from the other students, making her instantly popular, but she _isn't._ She's obviously got some sort of issues, I mean seriously, _look_ at her…"

He gestures towards her with his hands and continues on his ramble.

I zone him out.

Aiden has a tendency to over think everything. He's fucking clever too, whereas I skip class to go to shopping…

I allow his logic to mull in my brain as I heed his advice and look over at the girl once more, but his words do nothing to make me feel better.

I honestly have the urge to help this girl. I'm sure she just needs a little guidance in the popularity department, and who better than me? And Maddy and Aiden, of course. To me, she just needs a little help from somebody to make herself…_somebody_.

Still, it's very unlike the 'cool kids' to talk to those deemed unworthy of our time-those whose reputations are in tatters.

I silently curse myself and my high standards and my bitchiness.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed?<strong>

**I know where I want to take this, but I'm not sure whether to continue, so any thoughts would be greatly appreciated and I'll hopefully get chapter two up ASAP!**

**Love you guys,  
>Hugs!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A big, big thanks to everyone for reviewing, I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!**

**Also, thanks for motivating me to continue writing, I've been busy trying to procrastinate from revising for my exam on Thursday...so thanks for helping my out in that department ;) I was so overwhelmed by the amounts of emails I got from the number of you guys who reviewed, favourited or alerted this story! Kudos to y'all :D**

**Hope you enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

I attempt to suck a deep breath into my screaming lungs but the refreshing oxygen got lost somewhere in the rhythmic pants that coincided with the beating of my feet against the pavement as I jogged down the road.

Luckily, the early hour of the morning meant there were few people around to see a sweaty Ashley Davies jog around LA and I know what you're thinking; since when has Ashley Davies, so-called celeb and total geek started exercising?

Truth is, I know that if I ever want to search for a social life around here, I'm going to have to fit in.

I turn the corner and nearly have an asthma attack right there in the middle of the street.

It's _her._

The biggest bitch in school. I think I heard someone call her Spencer? God, she is a babe.

And she's sitting at the bus stop, in all her perfect glory, even though she's only going to school. My my, she does look fine today, designer labels all but flashing in the early sun. As if she'd be caught dead in anything else…She untangles her iPod earphones with perfectly manicured nails, looking like the next Madonna.

And I'm looking all sweaty and most likely a nice shade of beetroot red. _Damn this California heat._

Honestly, the last thing I need in my quest for even a smidgen of popularity is for _her_ to see _me_ like _this._ 'Cause right now I'm really not doing myself any justice.

I self-consciously push the ear phone of my iPod further into my ear, diverting my gaze to the ground in the hope it will swallow me up before I catch her attention.

_Dream on Ashley, you will NEVER catch that girl's attention._

I didn't look up as my feet carried me on. I don't think she did either.

After my run, I showered and changed, hollered up the stairs of our admittedly rather large house for my older step-sister Kayla to drive me to school and managed to avoid any unnecessary staring competitions with the student body as I arrived at school.

I'm sure Kayla wouldn't complain; she loves the attention.

Bathes in the fact that we have a claim to fame and spends most of her nights at the hot-shot club 'Ego' with her friends.

I wish I could take a leaf out of her book, but I seriously don't want to embarrass myself. She's almost cocky in her lifestyle, and try as I might, I could never pull it off and still seem like a decent person.

Kayla can.

The bitch.

I amble slowly to registration class, taking my time seeing as I'm actually really early for once.

I enter the classroom and take a seat by the window, near the back, pull my iPod out of my pocket and push the buds into my ears as I allow my eyes to wander out beyond the glass and the time to pass for school to start.

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><p>I had to get the bus.<p>

The _bus_ for Christ sakes!

Spencer Carlin does NOT do buses.

But my ass-wipe of a brother refused to drag his sorry ass out of bed to drive me to school and so I had to leave extra early to get the bus and pick up my usual morning Starbucks before school. And Madison slept over at Aiden's last night so mooching a lift off her was off the table this morning as well.

Which is why I found myself at the bus stop at some ungodly hour of the morning. Okay, slight exaggeration there; it wasn't that much earlier than I would normally leave for school anyway but I still had to pick up my Morning Mocha and walk the few blocks to King High.

That's right.

_Walk_.

Jimmy Choo's were not made for walking in! Still I manage to trudge into homeroom just before registration was due to start, dropping my empty Starbucks cup into the bin as I make my way over to my usual seat to find…

Nobody-Girl in my chair.

_Who the hell does this chick think she is?_

I mean, she's been here a few days now. Surely she knows the score.

This is _my_ chair, at _my _table.

"Uh, excuse me?" I place a hand on my hip, eyebrow arched in distain in my perfected _'Bitch, what the hell?'_ pose.

She doesn't respond, doesn't even notice me as her eyes have a far-away look about them as they gaze absently out the window. She continues bopping her head slightly to whatever garbage music she's listening to.

I ignore how pretty I think her eyes are and tell myself they're a painfully pain shade of brown, that there aren't specs of lighter and darker shades riddled through the iris and aren't big and beautiful enough that I could easily get lost in them.

Instead of dwelling on that rather _disturbing_ thought, because really; she's a girl, I rip the earphones from her ear.

"Bitch, I'm talking to you and you're in my seat."

She looks shocked and a little frightened, her glasses sliding a little down her nose as she tried to compose herself.

"S-sorry, I, uh…I didn't think there were s-"

Sick of listening to her stuttering I cut her off.

"Well you thought wrong, this here seat is _my_ seat. No one else sits here and that one," I indicate to the table next to me, "is for my home-girl Madison. So why don't you take yourself and sit yourself over there, by the door, so that when the bell goes you can scurry out of my sight before I school you on the rules of this place myself."

She sits frozen for a moment, her mouth slightly agape and a look of total fear shining in her eyes before I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms across my chest and she hastily pushes her glasses further up her nose, collecting her books and bag and vacating the table like a frightened rodent. She scurried to the opposite end of the classroom, a faint blush covering her cheeks.

The small crowd of spectators return to their previous conversations and I take a seat in _my_ chair with an air of finality. I see her flinch as I slam my bag down on the floor and smirk.

I know she can feel my eyes glaring at her as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat throughout the class, squeaking out a terrified "present" when her name was called on the roll.

I almost laugh out loud when the bell finally rings for first class and she all but sprints from the room, gone before I can even pick my bag off the floor.

I don't see Madison until lunch time. Apparently her sex-a-thon with Aiden got a little out of hand. I didn't want the details but she took the liability to indulge me in them anyway.

Let's just say the whipped cream and strawberries got a little messy which resulted in them going at it again in the shower…several times.

I guess many guys admire Aiden and his built-in Viagra stash…_eww._

Anyway, after a rather traumatising lunch time, I left Maddy and headed to Sports class. A little bit of a waste of time for me seeing as I'm on the cheerleading squad, but Coach gets a little pissed when I don't take part in class. Apparently my excuse of '_already having a perfect body and wanting to save my strength for our routine'_ was wasted on him.

So it's with a huff and a few grumbles that I emerge from the changing rooms, confronted with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the wooden floor of the gym as the class plays dodge-ball.

_What are we like five?_

Coach blows into his whistle, signalling the end of this nonsense. Thank heavens.

He calls the class to gather round him, like some kind of squad-like group huddle which I am totally above. I stand back slightly, away from my sweaty and panting peer group tuning out the voice of coach telling the class how they "all throw like a bunch of sissy girls".

I'm too busy focusing on a slight chip in my nails that I'm pretty sure I caused while chewing through my nails while Madison simply horrified me with her Aiden tails. That was simply a horrible experience that I'd honestly rather not dwell on.

Although apparently I'm dwelling on it a little too much as I'm brought from my musings by Coach's insane whistle blowing again and the sight of the rest of the class pairing up.

I groan as soon as I realise that the only person left is that stupid dumb bitch who stole my seat earlier.

She nervously pushes her glasses up her nose as she apprehensively approaches me.

"I, uh, think we got off on the wrong foot-"

I snort, "Please, there's no need to apologize. We aren't friends and we never will be." I cut off whatever rant she may have been planning in her head before she gets into it and thinks she's coaxing me into some sort of acquaintance with her.

She looks slightly put out by my bluntness, before I flash of anger crosses her eyes.

"Fuck you, bitch," she spits venomously, a flare in her shockingly brown eyes that I've never seen before.

Wow, Nobody-Girl talks back.

I think she's the first person to ever do that.

"I think you're the first person to ever do that," I voice out loud.

"Do what?"

"Talk back to me."

She snorts and mumbles something under her breath.

"Spencer," I extend my arm.

A moment lingers, and I raise an eyebrow, a look of intimidation that I have long perfected gracing my face.

Her eyes search mine for a minute, anxiety reflecting in them before her soft skin touches mine in a gently handshake.

"Ashley."

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><p>That crazy blonde girl is…well, <em>crazy<em>.

I mean, what the hell? Throwing a fit like that all because I was sitting in her seat? Frankly, I was terrified and scrambled out of homeroom as soon as the bell rang.

But it played over and over in my mind, how pathetic I felt.

Kept bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

Anger, which left me so incredibly fuming I'm sure my glasses would have steamed up at any minute.

I didn't see her in any classes throughout the morning, half glad she's not in any of my lessons, half gutted that I don't get to release my pent up anger on her pretty little face.

'Anger management' I hear you say? Well, trust me I'm just as surprised by all this aggression as you are. Quiet, four-eyed, nervous Ashley really doesn't match the description on violent, aggressive, bad-ass bitch. My guess is that it's all the pent up frustration between moving here, adjusting to the new lifestyle and what not…

Still, I'm kind of enjoying this daring side of myself, makes me feel invincible.

Or at least it did until I find myself on the receiving end of her glare _again_, her piercing, and shockingly blue eyes cutting through me and making me squirm in discomfort as I slowly approach her, realising with a sinking feeling that we are probably paired up for the rest of this class.

I try to open with some light conversation, the clichéd '_I think we got off on the wrong foot_' speech, but she cuts me off again.

I don't really listen to what she's saying because that just unlocked the bitchy Ashley, the annoyance bubbling within me all day finally rising to the surface and the No-shit-taking Ashley spits a venomous _"Fuck you, Bitch_," in her direction.

As quickly as she showed up, that side of me left again, the confidence replaced with its usual nervousness. The In-Your-Face part of me disappeared, leaving behind the current Ashley who is absolutely shitting herself.

I watch as a flurry of emotion crosses her face; shock, anger, amusement.

Eventually, she holds out her hand.

"Spencer."

I eye her cautiously, several different situations playing out in my head of what she might do if I meet her out-reached digits; ranging from her hauling me into a headlock and beating my ass in front of this entire group of students to her somehow managing to throw me off the roof…

Taking my chances I grasp her hand lightly, mumbling a quiet "Ashley" in reply, bracing myself for the worst.

Instead of some brutal massacre, she chuckles softly and releases her grip, backing away slightly and lounging on the bleachers for the rest of class, leaving my standing on my own in the middle of the gym, dodgeball in hand, like the loser I am.

Coach blew into his whistle to signal the end of the class what seemed like an age later. Somehow, I had managed to pass the entire lesson tucked away in the corner, bouncing the ball against the wall while my supposed 'partner' lay sprawled across the bleachers, sunbathing without the sun.

I hurried into the changing rooms and got dressed quickly, nervous about anyone seeing me half naked and passing some unnecessary comment about how my body wasn't a '_California Ten_'.

Just as I'm about to scram out of there a twinkling catches my eye.

Spencer's standing against the far wall of the room, away from the rest of the class, talking to the girl I always see her with who I will assume is Madison.

She has her cheerleading skirt on, standing in just that and her bra and she unfolds her top, too caught up in laughing with Madison to pull it over her head and hide away what caught my attention in the first place.

Glinting in the light, and protruding from her belly button is a navel piercing, and I gulp because I know they are illegal for minors.

I duck my head and shut it door hastily behind me, my mind reeling. Sure, my dad's a rock star and his band, Purple Venom, are pretty bad-ass. But he always brought me and Kayla up to abide by the law. I guess he never wanted us to get into as much trouble as he did. Still, I was never one to break the rules, hence my altogether geeky aura. I guess people here are more relaxed about that stuff…

I seriously need to chill out here. So the girl has a navel piercing, it doesn't mean she's suddenly part of a drug-dealing, nerd killing cult of some kind.

Oh God, she's a nerd killer! _Calm, Ashley, calm…_

I never thought fitting in would be so damn hard.

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><p>I run the back of my hand across my forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that have formed there, as Madison calls for everyone to finish up and get changed.<p>

Yeah, Maddy's the head cheerleader. It was a little intense between us to begin with, but I let her have the spot, seeing as I'm not sure she could handle someone else telling her what to do. I mean, I'm obviously second in command and we make most decisions together, but that girl is in her prime when she's bossing others around.

I lock up the gym as I leave and head to the changing rooms to shower before I head home. Maddy is waiting for me by the parking lot and we leave the school together, walking down the road towards Starbucks because right now I have a coffee craving.

We make our orders and flirt shamelessly with the barista, resulting in 'two cappuccinos, on the house' and a cheeky wink to go.

"Eugh, please tell me he did _not _wink!" Madison exclaims as the door shuts behind us.

I fake a gagging noise and we giggle, continuing down the road sipping on our coffees.

God, we are such _two-faced bitches._

As we turn off the high street towards the residential housing we notice a little motor scooter parked on the side of the road, a shabby 'For Sale' sign stuck to it.

It's a perfectly normal scooter, actually kind of cute, except for its hideous golden yellow paint job, with a bright pink stripe down the front and a random orange flower on the front. We simultaneously stop and stare for a moment, before bursting out laughing from its randomness.

Continuing down the road, we periodically glance back at the little mobile, snorting in laughter every time.

I swear, only something like that would be found _here _in LA.

What weirdo would buy that?

.

.

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><p><strong>Again, thoughts would be greatly appreciated, they really help motivate me to continue so drop a comment! :D<strong>

**Also, sorry if it seems a little slow starting? I've yet to really get into this...**

**Or do you think the pacing is okay?**

**Should a pick it up a little?**

**Big thanks to every one who has actually managed to read this far, you're my favourite!**

***Skips off to start next chapter***


	3. Chapter 3

**Whoa, first things first: Has anyone seen Mandy Musgrave in glasses? HAWT! Just go google that, that is what I've based my nerdy side of Ashley on. Simply adorable!**

**Secondly, thanks again for the reviews and support! Means a lot!**

**Third...**

**Ah fuck it, enjoy the update!**

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

So I'm on a self-esteem high right now, feeling a grin sneak its way across my face as the warm breeze sweeps across my face and I speed down the road towards school. When I say speed, I mean this thing only does about 30mph but shut up, I'm still on a high. It's just something about the freedom of this little contraption; the only other time I ever feel like this is when I play guitar.

Anyway, so I was out for a run last night, ending up walking a lot of the way, when I stopped this little beauty. A Vespa PK50. Sure the paint work was a little eccentric and it needed a little work, but it was perfect. So Ashley.

Though that kind of worried me…

So on my quest for popularity I decided I needed a set of wheels. Yes, I have the image in my head of me pulling up on the curb, pushing my sunglasses into my hair and asking "Need a ride?" in a smooth tone. Granted in that vision I also pull up in a sports car but still, it's a start.

I bought the little mobile and took it home.

My dad liked to be handy with cars and stuff when he had some free time. He was a real little grease monkey and though apprehensive about me driving such a rickety little thing to start with he agreed to help me fix it up.

I pulled up outside school, failing to notice the stares of other students as I pulled down the driving goggles from my face and tried to dislodge my head from within the round helmet on my head. Struggling to pull the damn thing off, I practically toppled off the little moped and rammed straight into Madison Duarte.

"Shit! Sorry," I exclaimed, face turning red when I finally extracted my head from the helmet to see an aggravated Madison, coffee stain down her pristine white tee-shirt and Spencer with a disapproving look crossing her face. Luckily for me I hadn't spilled her coffee because I don't think I could face another Wrath-of-Spencer. Yesterday was exhausting.

I don't realise Madison has been ranting this whole time, face turning increasingly red as syllables of Spanish weave through her sentences, until she exhales a puff of breath at the end of it.

"…state of my fucking top!"

I shake my head in an attempt to clear it.

"Uh, sorry?" I offer again, because clearly she didn't hear the first time seeing as she was too engaged in her own personal monologue.

Her eyes snap to mine, as if she had forgotten my presence all together.

"Sorry?" she howls, "Sorry is _not_ going to clean my shirt is it? Sorry isn't going to refill my coffee or repaint that fucking _thing…_"

Her attention diverts to my new ride, squinting her eyes as if the bright colours are currently causing her a great headache.

"How about I give you my top?" I suggest, glancing down at my plaid shirt and back to the glowering diva.

Her expression changes from anger, to disbelief to amusement in a matter of seconds.

"Ha! Like I'd be seen dead in that trash you wear. '_Who are you wearing?_'Walmart or something?" She scoffs and walks off, knocking my helmet out of my hand where it was safely grasped and causing it to clatter onto the pavement, following that by bumping my shoulder as she passed and making me stagger backwards. Of course the universe couldn't just have left it at that. Nope. I then trip on said helmet and stumble down, landing ass first on the pavement and Christ did it hurt. Not only the dull throbbing in my right butt cheek from solid contact with a hard surface but the eruption of laughter from students loitering outside the campus, witnessing the exchange with glee on their faces. I feel the colour return to my cheeks, casting my eyes downward after watching Spencer wander off after her Latina friend, brow furrowed in my direction the entire time.

I drop my face into my hands, willing the student body at hand to just disappear so I can pick myself up and dust myself off, like I normally do. But something about those haunting blue eyes made me feel embarrassed and ashamed. And I knew they were my key up the popularity ladder.

With a heavy sigh and small sniffle I wander off to class before the bell sounds.

* * *

><p>I sort of felt bad for Ashley, but I felt worse for Madison's top. I mean, sure the wrath of Maddy-without-coffee first thing in the morning isn't pleasant, but coffee is a bitch to get out. And that top looks expensive…<p>

Pulling the offending item over head, having been standing under the hand dryers for the past fifteen minutes, Madison drops it into her schoolbag, retrieving her cheerleaders attire from her gym bag and pulling it on instead. The cheer uniform was a slightly horrible shade of green but didn't look so bad when matched with the Latina's denim shorts.

I smile at her, dejected look on Ashley's face completely forgotten as we link arms and head to class.

Lunch break is a welcome relief, my head spinning from numbers and elongated words. Me and Maddy find our usual spot and bask in the usual blistering sunshine, making the most of the time outdoors to add to our tans.

I have to admit, I honestly feel a little sick.

I hear Madison say something about getting a bottle of juice from the canteen, and is removing herself from out comfortable spot when the commotion reaches my ears.

I crack an eye open and survey the scene before me.

Madison has just hauled herself to her feet, an array of sheets and pages fluttering around her head like large flecks of confetti, a stammering Ashley Davies sprawled on the ground for the second time today, surrounded in fallen books.

She immediately picks herself up, nervously uttering apologies to no avail when Maddy pushed her back down, aggravation flaring in her eyes as she backed away from the fearful brunette on the floor.

With a sigh full of desperation, I watch the girl begin to gather her books again, snatching the pages off the ground while mumbling words under her breath.

"You keep talking to yourself and people are going to think you're crazy," I comment in a lazy voice, inspecting my fingernails as I feel the girls chocolate eyes on me.

She stared a moment, before flipping me off and returning to collecting her fallen notes once again.

"How rude," I sigh, closing my eyes and turning my face to the sky, allowing the sun's rays to smother my face in their heat.

Another beat passes before I open my eyes with a slight huff, my current sunbathing being disturbed by the rustling of sheets being frantically gathered and dropped again.

I snatch a few pages from the ground in front of me, slamming them into the pile in Ashley's arms, causing them to wobble like jelly on a plate and I cringe, crossing my fingers that they don't tumble to the grass again.

My attention snaps to her when she released a quite distressed "_Aw fuck,_" staring miserably at her now scuffed, albeit still hideous spectacles. There was a small clip in the left lens, with a small crack emerging from it, and the frames were scratched and a little misshapen.

Madison chose this moment to return with a bottle of juice, claiming how the anxious looking Ashley also owed her a new top seeing as she _"fucking coffee-stained the fucking life out of her fucking old one."_ Madison's words, not mine. I would never fucking curse like that.

Still, I watched Maddy hurl insults and profanities at the smaller brunette for some minutes before interfering with the bitching session.

"Hey Mads," I offer, placing myself between the seething Latina and petrified nerd, "How about we go to the mall, buy you a new top and take the rest of the day off, eh?" I end with a wide grin that I know the girl won't refuse. The day Madison Duarte turns down the offer of shopping there will be two moons in the sky.

Like the bi-polar bitch she is, Madison's fury filled eyes suddenly glass over with the prospect of sales and, most likely, shoes.

Glad I've calmed her temper for now, I allow her to amble dazedly to her convertible. I turn to Ashley with a quirk eyebrow at her stare of amazement.

"You coming?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Spencer<em>, what the _fuck _is _she _doing here?" the dark haired Latina hisses furiously to her shorter blonde companion as I follow them into the mall.

"You broke her glasses and she owes you a new top," Spencer shrugs and I deflate, knowing there was an ulterior motive in her bringing me along. I sigh, knowing these girls tendency to be spend-a-holics.

We spend a good few hours in here, and I'm shocked that I'm actually enjoying myself. Not that the queen bitches are paying any attention to me other than to send a few insults in my direction. After I bought Madison a new, and rather pricey, top to replace her ruined one I resigned myself to watching the pair shop away until their hearts were intent. They bought whatever they pleased and whatever looked good on them; which was pretty much everything from flowing tops to denim hot pants to the highest heels I've ever laid eyes on.

Entering yet another shop, their hands laden with bags and me following a short distance behind I listen to someone emit a slight squeal of excitement.

"Oh my GOD! Come over here Spence, this bikini is the absolute sex!"

I guess that was Madison then. My eyes dart to the scene anyway, watching the two girls fawn over this, admittedly gorgeous white Dolce and Gabbana bikini, adorned with cute little cherries.

"You should totally buy it," prompted Madison, thrusting the item into the blonde's hands.

"In white? It would so clash with my hair," Spencer argued, frowning at the bikini before adding, "It's made for dark hair."

Her eyes flash to me, as Madison states "Well I've already got this sexy leopard-print bikini that makes me look hot…"

The blonde's mesmerising blue eyes stay glued to me as she listens to Madison rant about how she has like fifty other bikinis at home. Suddenly she pulls the hanger out of the Latina's hand and extends it towards me.

"Try it on."

Madison's attention switches to me with a, "Ugh, what is she still doing here?"

I begin to back away from Spencer, my eyes wide and not leaving the skimpy item of clothing in her hand.

"Haven't you somewhere to me?" Madison snaps venomously, shooting a dirty look my direction. "I mean, haven't you any _friends_ you could be following around the mall?"

I blush, mumbling out "Um, no…"

Spencer's eyebrows shoot up towards her hairline and Madison scoffs in contempt. "Why am I not surprised?"

I blush further, dropping my eyes to examine my shoes as the girl continues to hurl abuse at me.

"Try the bikini on, Ashley."

I look up in surprise, having never heard anyone in LA call me by my name apart from my dad and sister.

"No thanks, I'm good," I say, my voice shaking a little.

"I'm not asking you, loser, I'm telling you," Spencer states firmly, grabbing my arm a little tighter than necessary and hauling my into the changing room and throwing the bikini in after me before pulling the curtain shut and holding it in place so that I can't get out again.

Groaning loudly and realising I have no other choice I strip down and slip into the bikini. Pulling the straps over my shoulders I chance a look in the mirror within the cubical. Spencer was right, this bikini does look great with my brunette hair, but not quite right against my pale skin.

I step out from behind the curtain, clearing my throat and preparing for the laughter I'm sure will ensue.

* * *

><p>I epically struggle to keep my jaw from slamming against the floor.<p>

Madison is oddly quiet too.

But wow, Ashley looks _amazing._ Beneath the loose and baggy clothes she usually wears hides a thin and toned body. Her figure is flawless, her legs are slim and seem to go on forever and her bum looks simply lush.

_I did NOT just think that!_

I shake myself, utterly weirded out that that last though.

"You, uh, you look good," I utter, trying to force my tongue to shape the right words to describe the beauty standing before me.

"Yeah, you look nice Madison adds offhandedly, "But you need a spray tan," her gaze returns to her cell phone as if sex on legs did not come walking out from the changing cubical in front of her. Some ass wipe wolf-whistles as he passes and Ashley's face turns beetroot red and she promptly swivels around, pulling the curtain closed behind her.

I take this time to try and settle my heartbeats to a normal pace.

It's absolutely ridiculous. I don't even _like _this girl, she gets on my nerves a little bit, and my body decides to react as if I'm crushing on her.

I c_an't possibly_ be crushing on her.

That's just…no.

Straight.

The curtain opens again, revealing Ashley returning in her oversized checked shirt and scruffy jeans, pushing her broken glasses further up her nose. I reason that my body hasn't recovered yet and that's the only reason my palms feel a little bit sweaty.

I stretch my face into a tight smile as she tells me she's just going to pay for the bikini and ambles away from me and Maddy, still obsessing over her phone. The monotonous clicking of buttons is beginning to get on my nerves as she sends text after text when Ashley returns, mumbling nervously about going to get her glasses fixed because people keep looking at her funnily and she likes the frames but can't see through the lenses very well .

"Let me see you glasses?" I hold my hand out as we leave the store, walking towards the opticians. She hesitantly drops the specs into my waiting palm and I wordlessly dump them on the ground and stamp on them, hard.

Ashley stares distraught at the shards of glass and plastic on the floor, her hurt gaze flicking to my smirk. _Hell yeah, bitchy Spencer is back!_

"Hunnie, you needed new ones," I state in an obvious tone.

We enter the opticians, and I pick out a flashy pair of designer frames with actually look good on the nervous little girl and demands she order some contact lenses because _"I am your new fashion guru. And you cannot hang out with me looking like Harry-fucking-Potter every day."_

On the way out of the mall, Madison and I shove a frightened and probably now emotionally scarred Ashley into the beauty salon and book a spray tan pronto, always achieved by tipping the beautician with a few extra bills.

As we wait for Ashley to emerge, Madison finally tears her attention from her phone to fix me with a stony stare. I roll my eyes.

"What?"

She thinks for a moment, probably thinking about how to word what's in her head. Not the brightest button is Maddy.

"Why are you so interested in her?" She asks plainly, brow furrowed slightly.

I panic briefly, aware of my recent thoughts towards the small brunette, before realising Madison doesn't know them. Instead I take a moment to think about her question.

"I guess she seems like she could be kind of cool," I shrug casually.

"Cool? Spencer she's been here a month and she still has no friends! Since when did _you_ associate with someone like _that_? You're the biggest bitch in school, we set our standards high."

I simply shrug in reply, still not entirely sure why I'm bothering with the girl.

"Look Maddy, it's one day, we got her new glasses, a bikini and a spray tan. We're not suddenly besties, I'll probably never speak to her again after today…"

Satisfied with my answer, the Latina inches closer to me on the sofa and the pair of us begin to bitch about the celebrities in the array of magazines laid out on the table.

* * *

><p>Inserting the contact lens into my eye and flinching slightly, still unused to the sensation of the little contacts in my eye, I scan my room for something to wear. Desperate to fit in with Spencer and Madison, I ditch my usual jeans and baggy tee and hunt around my closet before retrieving a pair of dark denim shorts and a white wife beater. I slip my feet into a pair of low-top navy converse and adorn my wrists with some beaded jewellery and sling a cute little necklace around my neck.<p>

The necklace is one of my favourite personal belongings ever. I got it as a Christmas present one year from my grandmother. Hanging from a silver chain sits a little silver pendant in the shape of a purse, the clasp of which opens to reveal a small clock resting inside. I adore it.

I pull my hair into a high ponytail, allowing my freshly cut bangs (yes, I got a haircut after my spray tan yesterday) to fall around my face. I apply a little mascara and lip gloss and grab my school bag from the corner of my bedroom.

Satisfied with my appearance I descend the stairs to the hall, hollering to my dad that I'm leaving and I'll see him later. I haven't seen much of him lately bacause he's been busy with his music and I sigh as my shouts go unanswered.

I hop on my scooter, pulling the helmet on and opting to leave the goggles behind today as the engine roars into life.

* * *

><p>"<em>The sun is so hot,<em>

_The drinks are so cold._

_Your clothes just fall off,_

_As the day goes."_

I'm lounging on the table's surface, leaning on my elbows with my coffee on one hand and my head tilted to the sky, allowing the unusually hot sun to soak into my skin. Its half past eight in the morning and already the weather is scorching hot. 3OH3 blares in my ears through my iPod as I relax even more.

I grin as I see Madison approaching, cracking open an eyelid to peer at her, attached to the arm of Aiden, through my shades.

She waves eccentrically at me across the quad and I take a sip of my mocha in reply.

The couple takes a seat beside me, sharing several chaste kisses and chatting idly. I'm not really paying attention because the grumbling of a tiny engine enters my ears as that God-forsaken scooter serves around the corner and parks at the far side of the lot.

The petite girl climbs off, pulling her helmet from her head and I tense.

She shakes her head, allowing her brunette bangs to fall perfectly around her face. Hanging the helmet on the handle of her moped and turns and walks towards the doors of the school, her tight top and shorts revealing the sway of her hips with every step she takes. The tan on her long legs highlights the tone of muscle in her thighs and simple wife beater accentuates curves I hadn't noticed about her before.

Heads turn as she strides closer, her posture a little less nervous than usual, a small smile fixed in the corners of her glossy lips.

"_Cos there's so many fine women,_

_That my head is spinning._

_And I'm seeing double vision,_

_Everybody singing like…"_

I haul the ear bud out, switching my iPod off and glance at Madison. She too has been watching Ashley approach, eyebrows raised slightly as Aiden all but drools over the transformed girl.

"Hey Spence," he begins inquisitively, "Isn't that the loner girl you two pick on?"

I gulp slightly, my mouth suddenly dry.

"It sure is."

* * *

><p><strong>So how'd y'all find that one?<strong>

**Lemmie know! :D**

**Oh and quick question; how are you guys finding the length of chapters? Too short or just long enough? Too long? **

**And does the switch in perspective thing confuse you? I like to switch things up to keep the chapter interesting but if its confusing ill try cut it down a little...**

**Love always!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Big big BIG thanks for the feedback guys (:**

**And I know a lot of you are hating on Spencer right now, but honestly I know what I'm doing and I hope y'all can hold out on her a little longer. I actually enjoy writing bitchy Spencer, thinking outside the box...it's interesting!**

**Anyway, on with the story, this one's a little longer than the rest because I seriously could not stop writing! But alas, all good things must come to an end, else the entire plot would spill out in one ridiculously long chapter...**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

"Whoa! Where're you going little one."

I cringe, one hand frozen on the door handle before it's quickly removed as I turn to throw a glare in my older sisters direction.

"For you information, _Kayla_, I am not _little. _In case you may have forgotten there are only two years and three months between you and I and while wearing these heels I should be calling _you_ little one."

Kayla smirked as I towered a few inches above her, the extra inches added by my Gucci heels the only leverage between us. I watch her eyes inch down my body, checking out my Friday-Night outfit.

"Look at you with your fake tan and designer get up," she sneers, eyes lingering on the gold and royal blue heels on my feet with a look of appreciation before travelling up my legs past the denim skirt to the white tank and gold jewellery. Her eyes softened as she took in the look of desperation I was sure was plastered across my face by now.

"You look good," she stated after a beat. I smiled in thanks. "But you don't need to try so hard Ash, people should accept you for who you are, not what you look like in labels."

I snorted. "That's rich coming from you sis," I laugh, because I don't think Kayla owns anything not designer, apart from maybe a few pairs of socks.

There is a slightly awkward silence as we each absorb each other's words.

"You know I'm going away for a few days," she starts.

"What! To where? And why?" I exclaim. Despite the age difference, Kayla and I have always had a close bond. In our entire existence, I don't think we've ever been separated once.

"Calm Ashley, it's only for a few weeks or so! I'm just going away with a few friends for a holiday…"

I swallow thickly. "Where're you heading to?"

"Hawaii," she grins.

"Wish I could just take off somewhere whenever I please," I grumble, frowning slightly and the thought of everything Kayla could _possibly_ get up to whilst in Hawaii. Trust me; some of it is _not_ pleasant.

"Oh the joys of being on a Gap Year," Kayla stretches dramatically and I take the opportunity to prod her in the side, hard.

"Later loser," I smirk as she squeals in shock, grabbing my keys from the coffee table and returning to the door.

"Wait!"

Once again I freeze with my hand resting on the door handle.

"You still haven't told me where you're going."

I shrug.

"Spencer's house," I state casually. My sister raises an eyebrow and I raise one in return before finally opening the door and fleeing the house.

I wasn't completely lying when I said that. I _am_ going to Spencer's house, I just don't know where I'll end up from there.

As I arrive at Spencer's doorstep I feel my hands start to clam up. Shakily, I knock on the solid wooden door three times, and step off the doorstep, awaiting it to be answered.

I still don't know where I stand with Spencer and Madison. I guess I'm a little desperate to fit in with the pair, hence the recent dramatic change in my wardrobe. I've been hanging out with Spencer quite a lot over the past few weeks and we usually end up shopping; i.e. restocking my wardrobe with '_acceptable attire'_ and what not. I'm telling you that girl is hot and cold. Yes, I feel a little guilty about caving so easily and I'm a little embarrassed about how yearning I am to fit in, but I figure that being on the right side of Spencer and Madison will gain me brownie points on the popularity ladder.

I few moments later I'm face to face with an older blonde, undoubtedly Spencer's mother if the uncanny resemblance is anything to go by.

"Hi, I-I'm Ashley," I splutter, fiddling nervously with the hem of my top.

The blonde woman sends me a warm smile, ushering me into the house which smells like freshly baked cookies.

"Spencer's friend right?" She asks, as I stand awkwardly by the door.

I nod quietly, observing the inside of the Carlin household.

"Up the stairs, second door to you left," she smiles and points towards the staircase.

I offer her a friendly smile in return as I cross the hall towards the staircase and begin climbing. On reaching the top of the stairs, I collide with something, or _someone_, rather solid and reeking of too much cologne.

"Oh crap!" I gasp, temporarily winded by the collision and powerful smell.

The blonde haired boy smiles down at me, strands of his curly hair falling around his eyes.

"That is not a problem," he grins a lopsided, toothy smile, eyebrow raising in the manner that could turn any sentence into an innuendo. I go to side-step past him but his body blocks my way.

"Glen," he extends a hand.

"Ashley," I reply, gripping it loosely and shaking.

He holds on a little longer than entirely necessary before letting go and winking at me as he continues down the stairs. Once out of his sight I shudder, wiping my hand on my top as I count the doors on the left before standing outside what is unmistakably Spencer's room.

"You know standing outside peoples rooms in total silence may seem a little creepy," the blondes muffled voice sounds from the other side of the door. I jump and give a tight laugh before gripping the handle and entering the room.

"Jesus Christ! Don't you knock?" Spencer snaps, and I immediately squeak out a "sorry!" exiting the room once again and knocking my knuckles swiftly against the wood.

"Come in," Spencer calls from the room in a sickly sweet voice that makes me genuinely wonder whether she is bipolar or not…

"Oh hi Ashley," she sends me a wide smile, inclining her head towards her bed where Madison is sprawled, her eyes glued to the latest issue of Vogue. Her eyes flick to me for a brief second and she emits a rather forced "Hi" before her attention is immersed in the magazine once again. I perch awkwardly on the edge of Spencer's bed, still totally insecure about where I stand with the girl and her Latina friend, who clearly still hates me for ruining her top. Though I guess we didn't exactly get along before that…

"So, uh, so what're we doing tonight?" I question hesitantly, eyes glued to the way Spencer pouts when applying her lipstick.

"Gray," Madison replies blankly.

Upon seeing my puzzled look in the mirror Spencer elaborates.

"It's an all-aged bar slash club space downtown…"

"Cool," I bob my head casually, trying to hide the whoop of excitement in my stomach at the thought of spending the evening at a bar with the two most popular girls in school.

* * *

><p>We perch at the bar, able to get in stamp-free thanks to a sneaky tip to the bouncer, and order a round of drinks. I watch Ashley's eyes roam around the environment; the dim lighting with the occasional flash from the coloured spotlights and the surprisingly packed dance floor. We opt to stay seated at the bar seeing as so many of the tables have been taken.<p>

I throw a wink to Cat, the barmaid, as she eyes the new addition to our posse suspiciously, setting our drinks on front of us.

"Who's the newbie?" she asks, watching Ashley stare at her drink intently.

"Uh, that's Ashley," I reply over the din of music blasting from speakers at the far side of the room.

With a nod she returns her attention to the bar and customers lining along it waiting to be served. Madison growls under her breath and I elbow her sharply in the ribs, a silent reminder of the conversation we shared earlier on today;

"_Why the fuck does she have to come out with us Spence? It's bad enough that she's your science project to make shiny and new but I DON'T want to be seen in public with that…that THING."_

"_Calm the fuck down Mads. Anyway I have this figured out. We're top dogs right?" The Latina nods. "And Ashley is a celebrity." Another nod. "Well, she's our chance to climb the social ladder OUTSIDE of this shithole school. And people will follow us to clubs and snap photos and…and…"_

_The pieces snap together in her mind. I watch the understanding dawn in her eyes._

_Ashley was our key to be something even bigger still. Our claim to fame._

Pushing my selfish thoughts away I then focus my sight on Ashley again, who is swirling the dark red liquid around in her glass, as if an internal battle is raging within her head, before finally shrugging and taking a large gulp. She swallows and splutters, cringing as the alcohol burns a bath down her throat and I smirk, sipping my own drink and engaging in small talk with Maddy, whose eyes are busy scanning the crowd of people entering the club, no doubt on the lookout for Aiden.

The burly teenager arrives, flashing his fake ID to the bouncers and strolling on into the place as if he lives here, although the amount of times he, Madison and I have come here I guess we kind of do. He greets his girlfriend with a kiss on the lips, sends a smile in my direction and allows his eyes to wander shamelessly over Ashley's body.

Mads scowls at the smaller brunette, whose eyes are still glued to the bottom of her glass, her shoulders hunched in a posture that clearly screams that she is far away from her comfort zone, before grabbing Aiden by the hand and disappearing into the crowd of dancing bodies.

I scoot closer to Ashley.

"How you holding up?" I ask nonchalantly, disguising my genuine interest in the girl-_because that's so no Spencer_-and swallowing my laughter at the horrible look crossing the other girls face-_because she's clearly a rookie_-as she takes another sip of her drink.

"Amateur, huh?" I ask, inclining my head to my own glass and cocking an eyebrow as the brunette winces again, setting her drink on the bar again and playing nervously with her fingers.

"Y-yeah," she ducks her head bashfully and refuses to make eye-contact with me, a faint blush coating her cheeks.

"Look, you're honestly better off chugging it, the rest will be easier to swallow once you're a little buzzed," I offer good naturedly, finishing off my own drink and promptly ordering another, craving the liquor induced feeling of euphoria that has teens drinking in the first place.

Ashley looks a little scared, eyeing the newly refilled glass in my hand as though it's about to bitch-slap her in the face. After a moment's hesitation she raises her own glass to her lips and throws her head back, downing the rest of the liquid and spluttering as she swallows.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut she shivers, ridding her memory of the bitter taste before opening her eyes and gracing me with a lazy smile as I place a vodka shot in front of her. Abandoning my current drink for now, I lift my own shot and clink glasses with her, allowing the liquid to burn my throat with satisfaction before returning to my previous glass and taking a soothing sip.

Beginning to feel the start of tonight's buzz, I polish off my drink and rise from my seat, extending a hand to Ashley with a simple "Dance?" and ambling idly over to the packed dance floor. My hand tingles where my skin touches the smaller brunette but I convince myself that it is sorely the alcohol and promptly let go, dancing briefly with the girl before resting my eyes on a guy, decent looking through my beer goggles, who will suffice for tonight's adventures and allow myself to wander over.

* * *

><p>I wake up feeling rough.<p>

Last night was my first time drinking.

And judging by the pounding in my head it will also be the last.

Groaning as my vision swims in and out of focus, I sit up in my bed, reaching blindly for my glasses and ramming them on my nose. I rub my temples to no avail.

Cursing under my breath I stagger downstairs, grateful neither my dad nor my sister are home to witness this. I pour myself a bowl of cereal, which I stare at intently, willing myself to eat it until it begins to go soggy. My mind mulls over last night's events.

Spencer was being her usual bi-polar self and Madison was as bitchy as ever.

After sitting at the bar, Spencer suggested we danced and pulled me to the dance floor situated in the middle of the room, next to a small platform housing the DJ and his equipment. Spencer bobbed around to the beat with me for all of one minute, her eyes focused elsewhere at something or someone behind me, before wordlessly leaving my standing alone amongst the sea of moving bodies.

Feeling dejected and awkward I made my way back to the bar, downed a few more drinks heeding Spencer's advice and realising that the sips of alcohol were more bearable as I felt myself become slightly tipsy.

And no, I didn't pull.

I saved the whoring about for the likes of Madison, and by the looks of things, Spencer, who trailed a very average looking guy into the disabled bathroom and did not emerge for a substantial part of the night.

I did have quite a civil conversation with Aiden though. He seems cool enough.

Madison wasn't pleased.

Memories became slightly foggy after that as the drinks continued and my awkwardness ebbed away with each glass of liquid confidence.

I abandon my barely-touched cereal and allow a refreshing shower to wash away my hangover and clear my head.

Towel-drying my hair as I enter my room, I'm distracted from my clothes hunting by the vibration of my phone which was lying forgotten on my bed.

'1 New Message'

**Bikini, beach. We'll be there in 20. ~S**

I sigh at how, even in text messages, Spencer is as blunt and bitchy than ever.

Unsure as to how I'm expected to reply to the demanding nature of Spencer's text whilst feeling slightly elated that I gained myself an invitation without actually being in the blonde's presence.

Pulling on my bikini and a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt that would probably be subject to Spencer's disapproving glare, I spent an ungodly amount of time prepping my hair for the company of bitchy perfectionists. The curling tongs were still hot as I grabbed my keys and made to head out the door, so I rested them on the varnished wood of the floor, willing them to cool as quickly as possible and not set fire to my house while I was gone. Why the use of curling tongs I hear you ask, well-the natural curl of my hair is different to the induced curl of the curling iron, which is neater and more Spencer-approved.

I shut the door as I hear the horn blast from Madison's car, and hurry down the stairs and out the door, not keen on keeping the Latina waiting when she so clearly hates me as it is. Adding fuel to the fire when my relationship with these people is on tenterhooks probably wouldn't be the best idea and with that in mind I force a smile as I climb into the back of the car.

Madison sits in the driver's seat with Aiden beside her, his hand sitting questionably high on her leg while his fingers trace patterns on her thigh. He glances in the mirror and sends me a smile as he catches my eye. Madison scowls. Spencer's attention remains on her phone before her eyes lift to meet mine. She smirks and shifts her legs, which were stretched over the entire back seat, allowing me a little more room to sit before I pull the door closed and the car begins to move.

I keep my mouth shut, afraid of the deep and husky tone in my voice giving away my current hangover when the rest of the cars inhabitants are bright and bubbly; chatting away and singing to the music blaring from the radio. The amount of alcohol consumed by them is clearly no chip off their shoulders, and I didn't even drink as much as any of them. Yet here I am, suffering in silence with a mouth like the Sahara and a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Still, I begin to pick up as Madison lowers the windows and the breeze of the car speeding down the highway caresses my cheeks.

The car is parked a hair's breadth away from the golden sand, and immediately the two girls strip down to their bikini's before exiting into the sunshine. I swallow nervously before removing my shorts only and padding out onto the beach. The warm sand caresses my bare feet as I stroll towards my acquaintances, towel tucked under my arm.

Madison makes a show of applying her sun cream as Aiden drools all over her but Spencer's eyes watch me approach from behind her shades. I drop my towel on the sand beside her.

"Remove."

She gestured to my tee-shirt and I look around nervously before hooking my fingers under the hem and lifting it over my head in one clean motion.

Her eyebrow rises in satisfaction as I feel her eyes roam down over my body. Out of my usual self-conscious state, I lift my arms to cover my body.

"Sit."

I abide to her commanding tone, not really appreciating having to follow orders but not having the mind set to argue back. I plop myself down on my town beside her, hands fiddling nervously with the edge of my towel as I fought the urge to bury myself in the sand, out of sight.

"Stop. You look great," the blonde comments, sending me the first genuine smile I've seen her direct at me.

I smile back and relax, allowing the sun to warm my skin.

* * *

><p>"Stop. You look great."<p>

And look great she did. As soon as that tee-shirt came off my mouth became drier than the very sand I was sitting on. Her new tan accented the tone of her body. It highlighted her curves perfectly. I refrained from allowing my jaw to drop but couldn't stop my eyes wandering down her body as she stood in front of me.

Even as I watched her smile back at my compliment I knew her nerves were still shattered. We sat in silence for a good while. Madison had long disappeared with Aiden, whose surf shorts had become noticeably tighter.

"Are we just going to sit here all day?"

I sat in shock for a good minute and a half.

This girl had _never_ initiated conversation with me. Not if she could avoid it. _"Spencer where is your bathroom?"_ does not count.

"Pretty much. LA loves the '_sun-kissed'_ look."

She snorts before shifting her position, crossing her arms behind her head. I can't help but notice how this stretches out her abdominal muscles and my eyes scan her body more times than I'd care to admit.

"Like what you see?"

I clear my throat uneasily, not liking the smug look on the brunettes face.

"Don't flatter yourself," I deadpan, "But you're shaping up nicely Davies," I motion towards my own toned body. The one Californian guys throw themselves at. The one they think about when they feel their pants tighten. The one that _causes_ their pants to tighten.

Ashley trails her eyes down my body before returning her gaze to the ocean and the swarms of people splashing about in its blue waves.

The day progresses with idle chit-chat flowing between us now and again. I was joined by two pretty buff surfers who spent roughly an hour chatting me up with their tale of woe about how they've _'missed the waves_' but glancing at the blondes brown roots showing beneath his curly locks I no longer cared. I shot the brown haired guy a death glare as his eyes lingered on Ashley longer than normal.

Unable to justify my unnecessary protectiveness of the girl I sighed with relief as they left, causing the other girl to stare at me in confusion.

"What a bunch of fake losers," I growl, watching their retreating backs.

Ashley scoffs in an _'Are you serious?'_ manner and I reconsider my words.

I guess they are a little hypocritical. Even my own roots could do with a little touch up soon.

And no, I'm not a _malteaser_, but I seem to suit the light blonde look better than the natural golden-fair tone of my hair. At least, I prefer the colour it is now. I can't remember the last time my hair saw its natural colour. Anyway, off the point.

My gaze switches to Ashley, noting the slight pink glow radiating from her skin as the sun colours it in true Californian style. That spray tan is not high in SPF…

When Madison and Aiden return, both wearing similar looks of satisfaction, the beach has somewhat emptied and the sun hangs lower in the sky, illuminating the land in hues of red and orange.

The temperature still remains surprisingly high and Ashley returns carrying two ice creams from the vendor parked a little further up the beach. She stalls as she notices Aiden and Madison, realising they returned during her absence and noticing she's only carrying two cones.

"Oh, s-sorry. I only got two," she stammers, eyes locked fearfully on Madison who shrugs, muttering something about having her fair share of ice cream earlier and winking suggestively at her boyfriend. I shudder and divert my attention away from the two sex addicts.

I accept my cone from her and take a longing lick of the freezing cream, sighing with relief it cools my heated body.

"Can I have your flake?" Aiden asks innocently, his eyes locked hungrily on the chocolate flake emerging from Ashley's ice cream.

She frowns a little before plucking the flake from her cone and handing it over to him. Unfortunately, somewhere in between her holding out the stick for him to take and him stuffing the chocolate into his mouth, a little drop of ice creams falls from the end of the flake and lands on my belly.

I give a sudden scream of surprise as the freezing substance comes into contact with my skin, sending goosebumps up my arms and making me squirm.

Hurling apologies left right and centre, Ashley scoops up the offending blob of ice cream and the sensation of her finger touching my bare belly sets my skin alight. The feeling significantly contrasts with the earlier chill residing in my skin. The goosebumps fail to depart.

Without thinking, I dip my finger into my own ice cream and flick it at her, her jaw dropping in shock as the cold substance hit her. This proceeds to turn into a fully fledged flicking war, the pair of us continuing to launce the cold white matter at each other until a peeved looking Madison with a tiny speck of cream on her nose and a hysterical Aiden force us to call a truce. After munching on the wafer cone, Ashley and I stroll towards the water to wash our now sticky hands.

I walk faster than she does, my longer legs giving me the advantage of longer strides. I clean my hands in the salty water, straightening up to see her jogging slightly towards the water's edge, obviously forgetting that it's _water_ and she's _running._

Consequently, _splashing_ ensues.

I'm not best pleased.

Her nervousness dissipates after my lack of verbal abuse. I keep my face blank as I suddenly kick the cool water against her bare legs.

She gasps. She retaliates.

We act like five year olds for a while.

She's not like Madison I muse as I watch her laugh and scream, flicking water at me and dodging my attacks. My own face probably mirrors hers. Madison isn't fun like this. Madison wouldn't have water fights or ice cream wars, in fact, I rarely hear the Latina laugh at all. At least not a genuine one, like the one bubbling from Ashley's throat, her face contorted in a smile so beautiful it makes me think that maybe I'm befriending her for reasons other than my own selfish gain.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, feedback is always greatly appreciated, and though I may not reply like I've seen other authors do (because I'm either too busy or too lazy) I want you to know that each little email that's entitled '[FF Review Alert]' makes me smile and is read at least twice...<strong>

**Kudo's on making it this far! I have no questions this week...**

**How'd you think it's shaping up?**

**Oh, theres one!**

**...**

**Love always :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry this took a little longer than my previous updates have; I finished my exams and am officially on my Summer break! So I celebrated by drinking a lot and going out places and making the most of my first week of freedom.**

**I had fun!**

**But I eventually found the time to continue this, I hope you all aren't too mad?**

**This chapter is a little bit of a filler, I don't know I just type and this came out...Hope it;s enjoyable enough! I tried to save the drama for the next chapter...**

**Anyways, enjoy kids!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

Sunday is spent lounging lazily around the house and completing forgotten homework. The only contact from the outside world comes shortly after dinner with a text from Spencer which caused my phone to vibrate so loudly against my bed's side table that I squealed and fell off my bed.

**Giving you a ride tomorrow ~S**

I frown at my phone, unable to comprehend the blonde's sudden act of charity but shrug it off as I begin to horde my wardrobe for an outfit that will be approved of.

On finding a nice pair of faded denim shorts and a black belt I bite my bottom lip, scanning my room for any sort of top that I could possibly wear to complete my outfit.

This is not a case of '_Oh, wear any top, its denim'_ because with the distressed denim and the few studs on the belt, this outfit required a more retro top…

Sneaking into Kayla's room, relieved to find it empty, I frantically search through her closet before she comes back from…wherever she is.

I whoop with delight, finding an Ed Hardy vest top with the words '_Love Kills Slowly'_ scripted across the front, along with the usual design and logo's found on any of these tops. It's perfect, giving me a slightly gothic look which I surprisingly suit very well.

Sneaking back into my own room, I fold the top and place it on my desk, placing my folded shorts and belt on top. I pick out some matching jewellery and recover my black converse from the pile of shoes peeking out from under my bed. Satisfied, I climb into bed.

Placing my glasses on the side table, along with my phone, I'm surprised to feel how heavy my eyelids are despite it not being long after 10pm.

Not realising I've fallen asleep until I'm being shaken away by gentle hands; I rub my eyes blearily, inhaling the sweet perfume of my sister.

Kayla is leaning over me in the dark, her hands placed on both of my shoulders, shaking me awake. I make out her blurry silhouette through the moonlight sneaking through a gap in my curtains. Unable to make out the details of her face with my poor vision, I reach blindly for my glasses, shoving them on my nose.

"Guess what?" Her tone is hushed but the excitement is evident in her voice.

"What?" I fire back, my voice hoarse and grumpy from being awakened prematurely.

"Dad's band have been asked to perform at some MTV award show _and_ we have been asked to be presenters!" she jumps up and down towards the end, clapping her hands in sheer glee with a shit eating grin plastering her face.

My displeasure at being woken ebbs away immediately, replaced by butterflies of nervousness and exhilaration. My face begins to mirror my sisters, and I bob up and down on my mattress along with her.

"Oh my God! That's sooo cool!" I drag out the 'O's for emphasis, but I don't think she needs it.

"I know! And we get two free guest passes too!" she screams back. I think my eardrums burst. I guess we all know who I'm inviting…

After laughing and talking excitedly for the upcoming event for another few minutes, I begin to feel my eyelids droop and I collapse backwards onto my pillows with a sigh.

Kayla leans over me again, resting her head by my ear.

"This is going to be so awesome," she whispers into the darkness.

"I know," I reply, my voice low and sleepy.

"G'night," my sister kisses my cheek and walks to the doorway, pausing before turning back around to face me.

"Oh, by the way, I want my top back."

I giggle and nod into my pillow, feeling sleep drift over me once again.

And for the second time I'm rudely awakened. Though this time not by my babbling, bouncing older sister but by sunlight cracking into my room, clichéd birds singing outside and the vibration of the alarm on my phone, signalling I should actually get up out of bed and get dressed for school.

Slipping into the clothes nearly laid out the previous night, I flick on my curling irons, impatiently waiting for them to heat up while I put my contact lenses in. They've become more comfortable now, so I don't mind half as much wearing them. I actually enjoy them; the freedom of seeing in all directions, not just through the glass in front of you with the frames blocking your peripheral vision.

The light flicks off on the curlers, indicating they've fully heated up and I set about replacing the natural curls in my hair with neater ones from the iron.

Just after throwing a little make up on, I hear a horn blast from outside.

"Shit," I mutter, grabbing my phone and schoolbag and rushing out the door, realising I haven't eaten breakfast yet.

I bolt out the door and into Spencer's convertible, ignoring the hunger pangs in my empty stomach.

"Starbucks," she states simply, eyes still on the road as I close the car door and she pulls out from the pavement.

I smile gratefully, figuring caffeine and croissants would be an excellent start to the day. And damn I was right.

I groan in delight as I maul another bite off the croissant, enjoying every chew and washing it down with a sip of mocha from the little plastic 'to-go' cup.

"Hungry?" Spencer laughs, watching me with a look of amusement.

I nod vigorously, finishing off the pastry and swigging the last of my coffee and sighing in content.

The blonde chuckles and drives on, pulling up in the school car park after a few minutes. She removes the keys and opens the door, lifting the extra coffee we bought for Madison from the cup holder near the dashboard. For the first time on arrival to this new school, apart from my first day, people watch me climb out of the car with a mixed look of awe and wonderment in their eyes.

I smile to myself, watching the passers-by.

This is what I've been searching for, maybe without the slight flash of fear in their eyes, their pushing out of my way to allow me through, their mumbled apologies when they bump into me. But the twitches of their lips when I catch their eyes and smile, the brief greetings as I pass, the recognition. This is what I needed.

Today, I felt like somebody.

* * *

><p>I watch the kids in the hallways give Ashley their undivided attention, half amused and half genuinely pleased. The look of utter happiness in the brunettes chocolate eyes was unmistakable. But after watching her brush off another group of hassling teenagers I spot it.<p>

The look of trepidation and insecurity flashing in her orbs.

Flashes of the Ashley who hasn't changed in my company.

Acting on gut instinct, I pull her away from the classroom we were about to enter. Keeping her hand firmly grasped in mine and ignoring the tingling feeling on my skin, I fish in my pocket for my car keys, unlocking the doors and pushing her in.

"What are you doing?" she asks, confusion etched on her face. "Are we skipping again?"

"Sort of…" I trail off, starting the engine and pulling out of the car park, concentrating on not being recognised by any teachers as we made a hasty exit from the school grounds.

"Sort of?" She questions further, once we've pulled onto the main road and off towards the city centre.

"Well, you'll be educated in some form today," I flash her a grin.

"Educated?" Her voice is uneasy.

"God, Ashley!" I sigh in frustration and amusement. "You're a celebrity, but you're clearly uncomfortable around people paying you attention! I'm going to teach you to '_walk the walk'_ and '_talk the talk'_ and shit…" I trail off, as I focus more on the road.

Sneaking a look in her direction, Ashley's face bears a look of mild embarrassment but I see a hint of excitement behind her eyes. I smirk.

Parking in a lot around one of the shopping malls, I grab her wrist and hurry off in the opposite direction she was about to walk in, trailing her behind me and laughing as she gives a surprised shriek.

I lead her to a small, paved area surrounded by typical LA high-rise offices and flats. There is a small 3 tiered fountain surrounded by a low situated in the centre with a few benches placed around the edge of the place. It's calm and quiet, secluded from the busy city and hidden from view by the concrete jungle surrounding it. I smile happily upon realising it is totally deserted.

I sit cross-legged on the low wall by the fountain, the slow trickle of water soothing to the ear. Ashley hesitantly copies my position, facing me uncertainly.

I stare at her face from a minute, entranced by the flashes of self-consciousness and reticence in her eyes and how she bites her lip nervously.

"Why am I here?" she asks after a short while.

"You should be more confident," I reply earnestly. Her eyes soften a bit, but I'm not sure whether it's out of bashfulness or hurt. Her head falls as she examines her shoes in silence.

I place a finger under her chin and tip her head back up until her eyes meet mine, filled with obvious uncertainty.

"See?" I say softly, offering a light smile in her direction.

She shrugs, dropping her eyes again and mumbles "I don't know how to be confident…"

"You don't have to _be_ confident, just _look_ it," I grin, standing on the low wall and gesturing her to do so too.

She stands up shakily on the wall, eyeing the water flowing down the fountain on her left, wary of falling in.

I gently grab her elbows, placing her hands in the same place in on my elbows, so that our forearms are aligned. Pushing against her slightly, I roll her shoulders back and instruct her to raise her head and eyes.

Even rearranging her usually slumped posture makes her look like a whole new person. Keeping her like this, I walk backwards, pulling her along with me and scold her laughingly when she allows her posture to return to its usual stance. Then I spin her around and take a step towards her, so her back is almost pressed to my front. I place my hands lightly on her hips, ignoring the way her breath hitches and the way my heartbeat speeds up considerably.

"Keep standing the way we practiced," I whisper in her ear, pushing her forwards slightly until she takes a step. Using my hands I gently manoeuvre her hips to swing with each step, she stumbles a little at first, but soon gets the hang of it and soon we are both strutting along the low wall by the fountain, laughing and joking.

"Fuck off Carlin, you know you just wanted to grope this," she laughs, running her hands down her sides and over her hips. I quirk and eyebrow.

"That's the '_talk_' I'm talking about," I grin. She looks confused.

"The attitude," I elaborate, "Makes you seem confident as well. Like the time you told me to fuck myself, in our first gym class. Where's that side of Ashley? She's cool," I smile at the slightly blushing brunette.

"That Ashley is afraid of getting her assed kicked," the brown-eyed girl admitted quietly, shoulders slumping and eyes dropping back to the ground.

"Posture!" I shout, and she jumps, shoulders rolling back and eyes lifting to gaze into mine.

"Honey," I smirk, taking a step towards her. "Do you seriously think anyone would kick your ass when you're walking around with me?"

She snorts a laugh, pushing my shoulder lightly. The action was light and playful, but I'm standing closer to the edge of the wall than either of us realised and quickly lose my balance.

"Shit," I hear Ashley cry, her eyes growing wide and she hastily reaches for my flailing hand a little too late as I crash into the cold water below me, pulling her along for the ride.

* * *

><p>The coolness of the water causes me to gasp and I topple off the wall, trailed into the fountain by Spencer's hand firmly gripping mine.<p>

I stare at the blonde wide-eyed as she wiped the water from her face, waiting for her to explode at me and punch me in the face or something.

I swallow thickly as her gaze finally lands on me, I tense moment passed before she lets out a chuckle and flicks some of the water at me like we did at the beach the other day.

I almost sigh in relief, letting a grin erupt over my face as I flick some back at her.

Her laughter turns to almost hysterics and I find myself laughing too, the pair of us sitting in this fountain, soaked to the skin.

"C'mon, I've dry clothes in my car," she manages between laughs, hauling me up with her as we return to the parking lot at the mall, ignoring the funny looks from strangers observing two sopping wet teenagers strolling down the street.

Once changed into a pair of comfortable sweats and a hoodie from the boot of her car, I wring my wet clothes out by the side of the road, before folding them neatly. _Kayla's going to kill me,_ I think as I fold her dripping Ed Hardy top and place it at the top of the pile.

Still laughing slightly, Spencer climbs into the driver seat of the car, turning towards me and grinning stupidly.

"Hey Spence?" I begin nervously.

"Hmm?" she hums and she rummages in her bag for her keys.

"Em, I-uh," _Great, nervous and stuttering Ashley is back._ I take a deep breath, mustering the confidence to blurt this out in one go.

"I'm-presenting-awards-at-an-MTV-show-and-I-got-extra-tickets-and-I-was-wondering-if-you-wanted-to-go?"

It comes out rushed, but the blonde seems to catch the gist of it as her face lights up.

"Oh my God! That so cool!" She grins, nodding vigorously.

I grin back as the car starts and we drive off.

And pull up at Starbucks a short drive later.

I sigh and roll my eyes as I spot Madison sitting with a rather angry expression on her face on one of the sofas scattered around the coffee shop.

"Remember? Confident," Spencer whispers in my ear, her breath tickling my skin and causing goosebumps to litter my skin.

I push my shoulders back, stand a little straighter and plaster a smirk across my face as I follow Spencer and enter the shop, the delicate aroma of coffee flooding my senses immediately.

"Bitches!" Madison shouts, directing her anger more at me than her best friend. She hugs the blonde and glares a little at me as we join her at the table she is occupying. "Where have you been all day?" She questions.

Spencer smirks in my direction and says something about a different kind of lesson, but I'm not really listening, her blue eyes have momentarily enraptured me.

Snapping out of it, I smirk towards Madison to emphasise her point.

"And guess where we're going?" the blonde continues excitedly.

"Where?"

"An MTV awards show with Ashley."

The smirk falls from my face. I didn't want Maddy to come. Apparently Spencer did. I'm too caught up in the horror of the thought of her ruining my night with her possessive and jealous attitude towards her blonde friend that I fail to notice the pointed look said blonde shoots at Madison.

The Latina immediately begins to bounce in her chair excitedly, jabbering about which celebrity she is most excited to meet. I'm too frustrated and admittedly a little scared to enlighten her to the fact that most of the celebs she's noted probably won't be attending.

Aiden, who must have been in the queue this whole time, returns with to steaming mugs of coffee and is the only one to look genuinely excited at the prospect of the show_ for me_, only to be told he can't go by a gushing Madison. I sent his slightly downcast face an apologetic look which he shrugs off with a friendly smile.

I return it with a grin and we become immersed in small talk while the girls beside us chatter about dresses and heels and hair-do's. Things that I should be more worried about than them. I do like Aiden however, probably more than the two people who are the only reason I know him. He's friendly and genuine towards me, and as I laugh loudly at a particular joke he made I see Madison's angry eyes latch onto me before she pulls the boy into a passionate kiss.

I guess she's possessive over him too.

* * *

><p>"What the fuck did you do to my Ed Hardy?"<p>

Kayla's agitated voice sounds from my doorway. She clutches the damp and crumpled top in her hands. I'd apparently unsuccessfully tried to hide it in the wash basket, and I don't know what she was doing rifling through the mass of dirty clothing but she seems to have discovered it.

"Why were you searching through the laundry?" I retaliate, bearing in mind what Spencer had told me earlier about attitude.

Kayla's eyebrow arches, clearly not expecting the back talk.

She lets the matter drop.

"Whatcha doing?" She asks plainly, taking a step into my bedroom as I return my attention back to the books sprawled across my bed. I'm lying on my stomach on my bed, surrounded by books and sucking on a pencil as I jot notes here and there. Me and Spencer, sometimes Madison too, may skip classes when we don't feel bothered but I refuse to allow myself to fall behind in my studies.

"Homework," I reply through biting on the end of my pencil.

Kayla scoffs and grabs my ankles, pulling me across my bed and away from my books. I yelp in surprise before giggling and hurling a pillow at her.

"C'mon," she says through laughter, throwing my shoes at me. "We're going shopping."

"What for?" I sigh, glancing back to my unfinished work.

"Eh, Ashley? Hello! We're presenting an MTV award! We _need_ to look a thousand dollars!" She annunciates the ending in an over dramatic tone, causing me to grin widely at my sister and slip my feet into my converse.

Shopping with Kayla is…dare I say it? Almost enjoyable.

I mean for a start she doesn't stamp on my glasses, which I slipped on my nose before we left because my contact lenses were starting to itch. Don't you hate that?

Still, points are deducted for the fact my hands are laden with far too many shopping bags and Kayla babbles too much about things I couldn't care less about.

Still, I manage to emerge from Victoria's Secret chuckling along with her at the new sets of _'sexy lingerie'_ we both bought just for the hell of it. We calm our giggles for a brief moment before catching sight of the pink bag hanging from her wrist as the absurd jokes she made regarding what is currently inside that bag and a plague of laughter consumes us once more.

"Ashley?"

I swallow my laughter, and apparently my tongue as I spin to see Spencer standing a little away from me, her eyes gazing at my sweatpants, a slightly haughty expression gracing her face.

I blush because they are actually the ones she leant me earlier. I forgot to change out of them.

"Oh, uh, hey Spence…" I stammer, all memories of our earlier 'lesson' completely forgotten as shy and nervous Ashley comes out to play. "This is my sister, Kay-"

"Nice to meet you," Spencer cuts off with a fake smile. Apparently bitchy Spencer is out to play too.

I'm momentarily distracted by the figure standing by Spencer. The identical blonde hair leaving me in no doubt that she's here with her older brother, Glen was it? The was his eyes scandalously roam over my sisters body makes my stomach twist uncomfortably and also gives me an impulsive urge to punch him in the face.

"Shopping?" I ask in a desperate attempt to divert my attention from the slightly perverted boy who I'm pretty sure is eyeing me up for good measure.

"Yeah," Spencer laughs, indicating the bags in her hand. "For the awards, you know?"

"Ditto," I mumble, holding up my own. Glens eyes linger a little too long on the Victoria's Secret bag. Spencer notices too.

"C'mon douche bag," she huffs, shoving Glen forcefully away from us and waving over her shoulder at me as she leaves.

A moment passes.

"The awards?" Kayla exclaims, "You're bringing _her?_"

"She's my friend," I defend the blonde. _I'm not sure if that's true._

"She's a _bitch._"

"She is," I concede with a sigh.

"Ashley," Kayla ducks down a little to meet my gaze. "Why are you friends with her if she is s_o_ horrible to you?"

I sigh again, cringing as I think of the right way to word this.

_Well Kayla, I'm shamelessly using her for her popularity, so that I might actually gain some friends at school._

"She's…cool sometimes," I manage eventually, frowning myself at how lame that sounded.

Kayla huffs in frustration, rolling her eyes as she walks back towards the parking lot. Apparently we've shopped enough for one day. Hesitantly, I follow.

* * *

><p>"You excited for Friday night?" My new friend Chelsea places her tray on the table and takes a seat beside me. A moment later her boyfriend Clay sits on her other side. I smile and nod, glad to finally have company other than Spencer and Madison and their constant bitching.<p>

From across the lunch hall, Aiden smiles and waves before his hand is snatched mid-wave by Madison who scowls towards me before turning her back and greeting Spencer. This whole week Madison's glares have melted down slightly to frowns and scowls whenever I'm around. I have a feeling this will only last until after the award show though. After watching the conversation between the Latina and Spencer from afar, the blonde's eyes catch mine and a small smile tugs the corners of her lips.

I return the gesture before taking another bite of my sandwich before instantly dropping it back into its packaging and spitting the morsel of food in my mouth into a napkin.

All week my appetite has been zilch.

Kayla thinks I'm starving myself so that I look skinnier than her onstage on Friday.

I honestly tell her every time that I have absolutely no intention of becoming anorexic and that not eating sucks. I pin it all down to nerves though. Every time I try to eat the knots in my stomach force it back up again.

I settle for taking a slurp of orange juice from the carton on my tray and immersing myself in chit chat with Chelsea.

She's a lovely girl.

Honest and sincere, unlike Spence and Maddy, who are two false bitches. Two bitches I rather need though, given my once inadequate state of unpopularity.

"Ash!"

Spencer beckons me over with her hand, causing a few students sitting nearby to watch me excuse myself from Chelsea and Clay and make my way over to the blonde.

"What are you doing with them?" She murmurs in my ear, her blue eyes darting over to the couple I was previously sitting with and distain coating her voice.

"They're nice," I shrug.

She claps my shoulder, a fake smile covering her face.

"No," she merely says, before turning and leaving me to trail after her like a lost puppy once again. As if I wasn't bringing her to an exclusive award show.

As if I wasn't being used as ruthlessly as I was using her.

* * *

><p><strong>Still with us?<strong>

**Kudos to you :D **

**As I said, I wanted to save a whole chapter for the Awards and any relative drama...so this ended up as a little bit of a filler. I hope you ejoyed it none the less. Feedback is always appreciated and taken into consideration. And it's great to hear from all those giving this fic a wee read :') **

**I'll hopefully get the next chapter up as soon as I can! :D**

**LOVE LOVE LOVE.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Apologies again for taking a little long to upload this chapter, I spent ages trying to figure out how to structure it...**

**Anyway I hope it's worth the wait! I had a lot of fun writing this one, I sincerely hope you have as much fun reading it...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

I smile gratefully at my father as she pulls up outside Ashley's house. I thank him for the ride and kill him on the cheek as I clamber as gracefully as possible out of the car, knowing I will most likely be in no state to drive later on tonight if everything goes to plan.

I hesitantly approach Ashley's porch, flattening my dress as I go and realising I've never been inside it before. Suddenly, the front door bursts open and a tall man with fly away hair with blonde streaks in it rushes from within the house, retrieving his phone hastily and a little clumsily from his pocket as it rings loudly.

"Hello? Hello!...yes. Yes, I'm on my way over…yeah I'm in the car…" And with that he bolts into a silver Porsche parked in the driveway and speeds off down the road.

As if his shades or eccentric dress style weren't the biggest giveaway of the iconic rockstar's identity, his similarly shaped nose and chocolate brown eyes concealed behind his sunglasses leave me in no doubt that was Ashley's father; Raife Davies.

I continue towards the house, knocking three times on the glass windowpane. A few moments later, the door is flung open by a flustered looking Ashley.

She stands wide eyed, mouth slightly agape as I take in her appearance, dark and damp hair hanging like a curtain around her face and shoulders, no make-up, glasses sitting slightly lopsided on her nose, dressed in a baggy t-shirt and old faded sweats. It strikes me, like an iron-clad blow to the gut, just how naturally pretty this girl is.

"Hey," I state bluntly, stuffing sensitive Spencer back into her box and pulling my bitchy self out of the closet. _No! Not the closet, the cupboard._ I step into the house while the brunette stands frozen in by the door, one hand still on the handle, holding it open.

A moment later she shakes her head as if clearing it from bombarding confusion, glancing at the clock and realising she has enough time to get ready and that I am in fact a little early. Admittedly, being just as new to this as Ashley herself, I found myself getting ready hours too early in my anticipation and finally growing bored of waiting around, decided I could no longer delay leaving for the shorter girl's house, hoping Ashley was just as enthusiastic about this evening as I was.

Apparently she isn't.

Judging by the dulled twinkle in her eye she's ten times as nervous about tonight as I am excited for it.

"Ash-ley!"

A voice calls from the top of the staircase, each syllable enunciated in exasperation. I look up to see the same brunette from the Mall, Ashley's sister, holding a hairdryer and a brush in each hand and looking expectantly and equally irritably at her sister. She sends a fake and forced smile in my direction. Something stirs within me at her obvious dislike of me; a sadness of some kind which confuses me because I was never aware of my want for Ashley's family to like me. Shocked as I am, I push the feeling aside focusing on not peeking at Ashley's bum as she scrambles up the stairs, beckoning me to follow.

"That's my room down there," She points to an open door at the end of the hallway. "You can wait in there." And with a smile and a head bob she ducks through the nearest door and out of sight. I walk slowly down the hall, eyeing the insides of each open door as I pass in curiosity.

The bathroom is large and still a little steamy, the black tiles dulled by condensation and I wet towel lying abandoned in a heap on the floor in the corner. The overwhelming smell is of apples, no doubt from Ashley's shampoo. I frown, wondering how I managed to know that.

The next few doors are closed until I finally enter Ashley's bedroom.

The walls are a striking white and my heels clatter against the floor as I approach her bed and perch on the edge of it. My eyes wander over the posters gracing her walls, of the few photos scattered across her dresser, smiling faces beaming from their frames. I smile at the little sticky notes pinned to the edge of her mirror, because it's so nerdy it's just simply Ashley. This whole room squeals _Ashley_; not the Ashley I'm acquainted to now but the Ashley me and Madison tried so desperately to stamp out.

On that thought I pull out my phone and text Madison. We text back and forth,-asking about dress style, make-up, hair-do's, anything about the forthcoming evening to ensure we're both properly prepped-until Ashley enters the room.

She looks amazing.

A silky red dress hangs from one shoulder; not dissimilar to one worn by Zoe Saldana at some movie premier which I never bothered remembering, make-up that makes her eyes pop and her lips look luscious, hair straightened and styled perfectly thanks to Kayla, who stands in the doorway with her eyes glued to me as if gauging my reaction.

I swallow as my eyes travel down her legs, freshly coated in tan no doubt, and rest on a pair of black Jimmy Choo heels.

"Wow," I manage, focusing on not drooling over my own blue dress. Realising how much of an open book I may seem right now I clear my throat and sit up a little straighter on the edge of her bed.

"Wow, uh…I really like you shoes," I force the words out.

Ashley's smile falters a little, as Kayla all out scowls from the doorway before turning and finishing getting herself ready. I watch Ashley's face for a moment before she plasters her smile back on again, relishing in the simple fact that I complimented her, however backhanded it was.

She clears her throat after a beat of silence.

"We'll uh, be ready to leave…soon…" she throws in a tentative smile as she reaches across the side table for her phone.

"Yeah? Good…"

The pending awkward silence was thankfully cut short by a brief knocking on the door. I jump up, knowing that it's Madison and follow Ashley down the stairs.

"Damn, girl you look good," she greets me as soon as the door is opened, pushing past Ashley who stands rather helplessly holding the door again.

Me and Maddy hug, and she fawns over my manicure and my dress and I compliment her own dress, which is a rich and dark emerald green. When the Latina's attention finally turns to the nervous brunette, Ashley all but recoils under her scrutiny. Knowing Madison, she's probably looking for the tiniest aspect of Ashley's outfit that may seem imperfect to publicize. I know she's hard pressed; the brunette looks perfect to me.

Finally, she gives the shorter girl a silent head bob, a small smile pricking up the corner of her lips.

Ashley sighs in relief as soon as Madison turns away again. I struggle not to giggle.

Not a moment later, Kayla appears at the top of the stairs; wearing a black dress similarly styled to her sisters and red heels. The pair of them giggle excitedly and I feel butterflies erupt in my stomach when the limo pulls up outside the house and toots its horn.

* * *

><p>I am a complete basket of nerves right now. And it shows as I crack my knuckles over and over-a nervous habit of mines-as we wait for Kayla, who left her purse in the house and promptly bolted from the limousine to retrieve it. I can tell the gentle 'click' of my joints is starting to irk Madison whose jaw is clenching tighter by the minute.<p>

"Can you stop that?" she snaps, finally having had enough.

"Sorry…nervous," I mumble, dipping my head in an attempt to hide from her glare. Spencer's foot nudges my leg and I straighten up again, looking Madison in the eye for a brief second.

"Fine," she sighs, her calculating gaze leaving me so she can poke around in her purse. "Here," she pulls out a hip flask after a few minutes of searching and I eye it uneasily. "It will help calm you down," she adds, thrusting it into my hands. Glancing towards my house to make sure Kayla is not in sight, I unscrew the lid and take a large swig.

The liquid is vile and I gag as I swallow it, coughing violently shortly afterwards. But alas, Madison was right. I can feel it burning a warm path right to my stomach and I feel more relaxed almost instantly. I smile appreciatively at the Latina, who waves it away and cringes after taking her own swig, before passing to Spencer who does the same.

Before I can comprehend what is happening, Madison has retrieved a small bag from her purse filled with several white pills. I gulp.

"Chill, Ashley," Spencer's voice soothes, as she extracts a pill and sets it on her tongue, swallowing with another gulp of whiskey. "It will help."

And with that, I reach for one and follow the blondes lead.

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

The sun is evil. I decide that as he sneaks through a gap in my curtains and brutally attacks my eyes through my closed lids. I groan. My voice is hoarse and my head is pounding. I hear movements around the house but I simply roll over and duck beneath my duvet, shielding myself from the daylight.

"What the hell is this?"

My door bursts open, the sound invades my ears like a gunshot and caused my head to throb extra painfully.

"Huh?" I crack an eyelid open ever so slightly. The light is painful. My hazy and sleepy mind has yet to comprehend much.

"Look at the state of you," I finally recognise my father's voice as he throws something flat and cold down on the bottom of my bed, landing on my feet which are poking out from under my blankets.

"Mmm," I respond, pulling the duvet over my head once again.

"ASHLEY!" he barks. There's anger in his voice and I begin to panic. Gulping, I withdraw from my sanctuary and sit up, leaning against the headboard and nausea instantly overtakes me. I sway slightly as I regard my dad. His eyebrows are drawn together in a scowl as he watched me, in jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. He picks up the magazine lying at the bottom of my bed, scans it quickly, and throws it back down again in disgust. "What the hell are you playing at?"

My face contorts in confusion. I pick up the magazine and examine it myself, at a loss as to why all this anger is suddenly being directed at me.

My jaw hits the ground.

The double page article is jammed full with pictures of me, all under the heading _'__**Davies #2 Parties Hard at Music Awards'**_. There are photos of me at the Award Show, beaming up from the page with Spencer and Madison who seemed to have strut their stuff the entire time. Pictures of me on the stage presenting awards with Kayla, pictures of me at a bar with a drink in hand, pictures of me dancing very close to some guy with his back to the camera, pictures of me throwing up outside, pictures of me throwing a punch at some strange girl, pictures of me with a bleeding lip and running mascara…

I raise a hand and run it along my bottom lip, wincing as it brushed the deep cut residing there.

More pictures of me in clubs. There is one picture of me with Spencer that intrigues me; the blonde and I both standing in a dark secluded corner with Spencer's hand resting on my hip and mines on her shoulder. I appear to be whispering something into her ear. The longer I look at the image, the more I can feel the skin on that hip tingle, as if her fingers are still placed there. Then a final image which I had failed to notice before catches my attention. Me, arms flung around the neck of a brunette boy with a handsome face, his long muscular arms wrapped around my face, lips latched.

"Oh my God, is that _Aiden_?" I squeak, horrified.

"Aiden? Aiden? I don't care about Aiden, who the hell is Aiden?" My dad snaps. I'd momentarily forgotten about his presence.

I open my mouth but he cuts me off, looking livid.

"This isn't the kind of life I wanted for you Ashley," he gestures towards the magazine now lying abandoned in my lap. "That is not the kind of behaviour I expected; perhaps from Kayla at one stage, but never from you, from my little princess. I thought you had your head screwed on, had your wits about you. Apparently I was wrong."

"Dad," I whimper but he starts up again.

"I've been through that hell, Ashley; the drugs, the alcohol. The press pick up on that kind of stuff and they're so damn mean about it. I was always so proud of you for not flaunting who you are, for acting and dressing and just being like a normal kid. I thought I'd only ever have to worry about your sister getting into this kind of trouble-you know how she is. But she never _ever_ gave the media this kind of shit to eat up!"

I glance back down at the magazine, cringing at just how much of a mess I am in each photograph.

"I haven't seen you for days! And suddenly this article appears in this Magazine and those new friends of yours are in there too and I thought you were just fitting in. But they've changed you Ashley Davies. You're not my little girl anymore; the one who would go to school and come home and do her homework and play her guitar and sing along. I lost her…They stole her from me, those friends of yours. And I want her back, and you're not to see them until you're you again, they're a bad influence on you."

A moment's silence.

"You're grounded until I see fit…"

And with that Raife Davies turns and exits my room, slamming the door behind him. It's the first time I've ever heard those words leave my father's mouth while directed at me. I hang my head as tears fill my eyes, looking once again at the photos which are now swimming through my tears. I foreign feeling floods through me and constricts my heart.

Shame.

* * *

><p><em>We're on the red carpet, having just stepped out of the limo. I feel relaxed and bubbly, giggling with Madison and Spencer as camera's snap photo after photo of us. The blonde and the Latina pose, twisting and turning, eyes on the camera the whole time. Kayla wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into her side as people shout our names and cameras flash brightly…<em>

_I'm on the stage, eyes scanning the vast crowd before me, well, that of it I can make out beyond the blinding stage lights. I feel strange, as if my mind and body are disconnected and so I merely stand to the side and slightly behind Kayla, smiling and applauding where appropriate…_

_We're at a swanky bar at the award's venue where the rest of the shows attendees have gathered for drinks and idle chit-chat and to gossip about their fellow celebrities. Kayla is socialising a short distance from where I'm sitting, perched on a bar stool with an empty champagne flute. Madison and Spencer have disappeared to the bathroom leaving me alone. A waiter approaches; "Refill Madame?"…_

_The guests have started loosening up as the bar continues to serve drinks to the attending celebs. Spencer has managed to meander her way back to me and orders us both another drink from the bar. We sip quietly, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Madison. Eventually, the Latina is reunited with us; her lipstick a little smudged which doesn't go unnoticed by either of us. I frown while Spencer winks. Madison looks very proud of herself. "Isn't she with Aiden?" I ask Spencer quietly while Madison pulls a mirror from her bag and sets about fixing herself. "Yeah, well…they're seeing each other but nothing's official…" I finish my drink and set the glass on the bar. Glancing at the other two I notice both their glasses are empty too. "Shots anyone?"…_

_We leave the awards when the three of us are pretty wasted; Kayla had left a while ago and the other guests were frowning and occasionally scowling at out loud antics by the bar. Madison stumbles slightly in her heels as we stagger down the road. Spencer hails for a taxi. The driver scowls at us, obviously for being so drunk. I'm feeling far too buzzed to care about him, far too buzzed to recall the name of the club Madison directed him to drive to. In the back of the cab, Madison inconspicuously recovers her small bag of pills once again and hands one to us. In my drunken haze I take it without question…_

_The club is dark and the music pounds loudly in my ears. The flashing strobe lights fascinate me and I watch them flicker and illuminate the shady room totally intrigued. I'm drawn from my musings by a tug on my hand and realise Spencer is trying to pull me towards the dance floor. I detach my hand from hers, instead ambling over to the bar and ordering a drink. My throat feels strange, like something is lodged in it. The drink helps. Sighing in relief and contentedness, I make my way through the throng of dancing bodies in search on blonde hair…_

_Having long given up on my quest for Spencer, or even Madison, I find myself swaying to the beat of music pulsing throughout the club. I jump slightly as I feel a pair of hands slide around my waist shortly followed by a body pressing into mine. The body mimics my dancing and so I dance along, resting my hands atop the larger pair wrapped around me. After a while I twist around within the arms holding me, coming face to face-well, face to chest-with a large guy. His face in indiscoverable in the darkness and for a moment I think it's Aiden I'm dancing with before realising this guy is taller and a little less lean. He pushed his thigh between my legs, moving his hands to cup my ass as we continue to dance, grinding into each other in time to the music…_

_I'm sitting in a grimy toilet, watching the guy from the dance floor pull his trousers back up and buckle his belt again. A smug leer covers his face, which is very unattractive, as he unlocks the door and leaves, a new bounce in his step. I remain sitting on the toilet lid for several minutes, consumed by an unwarranted feeling of emptiness. "I need another drink," I mutter. My voice echoes off the walls of the empty bathroom…_

_We wait outside the club for a taxi to come and pick us up. It's late, judging by the red beginning to steak across the sky, or else very, very early. Someone bumps into the back of me, causing me to spill the drink I'd manage to sneak out with me. The glass shatters against the concrete below us. "Watch where you're going!" I cry, eyeing my wasted drink in despair. I was enjoying that. That small comment, however, severely pissed off whoever it was who knocked into me because her fist collided with my face a moment later. Pain shoots through me, and a hot liquid poured from my lip. I take no notice as I aim a punch back at her, oblivious to the shouts from around me or the hands on my arms pulling me away…_

"_Did we see you with a guy tonight?" Madison giggles before tripping on her way up the stairs. "Yeah," I shrug indifferently. Madison gushes, wanting to know the details. Spencer watches with a flash of concern in her eyes that I blame on the alcohol in her system. She can't possibly care about me…_

_I open my eyes to a strange room, and in a panic struggle to remember whether I hooked up with someone else last night. I freeze as I feel a hand resting on my abdomen, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric there. I realise I'm still in my dress from last night and my feet are aching from my heels. There's a slight pounding in my head but I vision is swimming slightly and I still feel the numbness of alcohol. "I think I'm still drunk," I groan, sitting up. The hand touching me is snatched away and my vision lands on a sheepish looking Spencer. "Me too," adds a dishevelled looking Madison, lying at the bottom of the bed. "Shit, it's 4 in the afternoon…" She grabs her handbag, begins fishing through it once more. "Bitches, I still have pills," she says slowly, retracting the small bag and three cigarettes. She lights one and Spencer scolds her for smoking in her room, but lights one too and takes a drag. She lights the third and hands it to me. I choke on my first draw and the others laugh, but after the second and third pull I begin to feel a little lighter. "Who's up for tonight then?"…_

_I'm in a club again, not the same one as last night. After smoking in Spencer's room and deciding another night of partying was in order we hastily fixed ourselves up, nicked some wine from Spencer's parents liquor cabinet, stopped for fast food and ended up here. I search for Madison, who demanded I take another pill. I find her at the bar, her lips attached to Aiden's. I promptly turn away, instead searching the crowd for Spencer…_

"_Hey pretty lady, you up for a repeat of last night?" The sleazy voice makes my skin crawl. "Fuck off," I slur, pushing against the body which now has me pressed up against the wall in the corner I sat in alone, unable to find any of my accomplices."C'mon babe, we had fun last night," the hot breath blows across my neck, emitting a stench of alcohol. "G'off," I mumble, too drunk to really get myself out of this predicament. This guy only makes the same empty feeling of last night return. Suddenly his weight is pulled off me, and Aiden is there, holding the guy by the scruff of his collar and the guy looks scared and sulks off once released. "Aww, my knight in shining armour," I giggle, wrapping my arms around Aiden's neck and hugging him. I pull back, accidentally bumping noses with the dark haired boy. Noticing how handsome Aiden is, how strong his arms are and how nice his smile is, I lean my head a little closer and brush my lips against his. He responds immediately, pushing his tongue into my mouth and pulling my body closer to his…_

_I'm outside heaving, listening to the sound of vomit splattering against the pavement. Aiden is rubbing my back, looking torn between concern and annoyance. My sudden need to empty my stomach interrupted our snogging session…_

_I stumble my way over to Spencer, who is seated at a booth in the far corner of the club. I rant about how I've been trying to find her all night and she shrugs and apologises half-heartedly whilst taking a swig of her drink. I sit opposite her, examining her sapphire eyes. "So pretty," I muse aloud, causing the blonde to snort. "You're drunk," she states. "Aren't we all," I respond in a sing-song voice. "I'll drink to that," she laughs, finishing the end of her drink and rising to get another, pulling me along with her. I trip as she trails me behind her, causing her to stop walking as I regain my balance. I pull her forcefully towards me and she herself stumbles, her hand gripping my waist as she steadies herself. I place my hand on her shoulder and lean towards her ear, so as to be heard over the loud music. "I did something stupid," I begin, but before I can continue recognition ignited her eyes. "Shit, I have something for you," and she pulls me towards the bar again, ordering us a drink and two shots each. I down both shots quickly, and lift my drink, carrying it over to the dance floor and trailing Spencer with me having had a sudden urge to dance…_

_Two pills appear on Spencer's hand from nowhere as her body moves along with mine. She placed the first one in her mouth and swallows. I hold my hand out for the second but the blonde doesn't hand it over. There's a mischievous glint in her unfocused eyes. She places the pill on the tip of her tongue and leans in towards me…_

_._

_._

* * *

><p><strong>So? What do you make of that one?<strong>

**I hope you all are enjoying this, it's a major set back when trying to write a new chapter to think that ones work goes unappreciated...There is a solution though; hit that 'lil review button ;)**

**Seriously though, it's nice to hear your thoughts and comments on this fic, and motivated me to write more. And also makes me smile, which is the best bit :D**

**Much love!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I can only apologise for the delay in this upload but I got totally side-tracked by the new Harry Potter release and I'm suck a geek for those movies...I saw it twice in the first 5 hours of release. Can anyone top that?**

**Anyway I got distracted from writing this and every time i sat down to write a bit more I forgot what I intended to put in this chapter and so I caught a little touch of writers block. Anyways it's finished now, I hope you enjoy it!**

**And I hope it's worth the wait...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

The house is bathed in eerie silence for the next week.

I rarely get the silent treatment from my father; I guess I'd prefer him to scream and shout, because that way at least my presence would be acknowledged in some way, rather than the stony silence that follows him around. The tension within these walls is thick enough to cut with a knife.

Each day following my recent grounding has been the same; get up, go to school, come home, do homework and go to bed. I rarely leave my room and seeing as Kayla hasn't been around I have reason to believe that I'm losing my voice due to lack of use.

Growing bored of lying on my bed brooding, I descend the stairs, checking to see if my dad is around. His car isn't in the driveway. Unsure whether I'm relieved that he's not around to glare at me or upset that he's left again without letting me know, I leave the house and enter the garage.

My little moped is parked against the far wall, its rusting pieces and eccentric paintjob resting in all their glory. I pull off my jumper, not willing to let it get dirty, and hang it on a hook by the door. I set about working on the scooter, relishing the opportunity to release some of my frustration as I replace the rusting pieces with new ones that I ordered weeks ago. I take it apart, repair it, repaint it, spend so long fiddling with it that it's late in the night by the time I'm finished. Unable to put it back together until the new paint has dried, I simple sit cross legged in the middle of the garage floor, staring into space while my mind loses itself I'm memories of me and my dad fixing up cars ever since I was five years old.

Unconsciously, tears begin to flow down my cheeks.

* * *

><p>Ashley has been basically MIA since the two nights of partying we attended. I haven't even seen her in school, except fleeting glances of her chestnut hair disappearing into the swarms of students now and again.<p>

I know she's avoiding me, me and Madison.

I guess she has a right to, the only brief encounter I've had with her was our first day back at school when she roughly shoved a magazine into my chest, splattered with pictures of her coupled with nasty remarks. There were tears gleaming in her eyes. Then she stalked off wordlessly and I haven't seen or heard from her since then.

A full week has passed.

My frustration at the brunette has only increased tenfold, and has now been joined by a slightly unwarranted anger. Was she trying to cut me out? Who the fuck does she think she is?

It's while brooding with thoughts such as these that I spot her, sitting alone at a table on the campus, eating lunch. I redirect my steps towards her, intent on having it out with her. Another figure overtakes me, heading in the same direction as me only at brisker pace. It takes me a second to recognise the tanned Latina, and another to notice the crumpled page in her clenched fist.

Madison stalks towards the oblivious brunette with purpose in her step and murder in her dark eyes.

Her abrupt stop before the smaller girl is quickly followed by a sharp slap across the cheek. By the time I've reached the pair, a large red handprint is visible on Ashley's right cheek.

The brunette girl looks startled; her eyes wide as they stare unblinkingly at Madison, her mouth slightly agape. She seems frozen for a minute before the pain of Madison's strike catches up with her and she winces, tenderly bringing a hand up to lightly touch the inflamed cheek.

"What the-"

"What the fuck are you playing at?" Madison shouts, flinging the crumpled page into Ashley's chest. Ashley stares stunned for a moment before unfurling the page and staring at it solidly. I watch her face dissolve.

"Shit…" She mumbles.

"The fuck?" Madison is shouting again. "You kiss _my_ man, have them publish it in a fucking magazine and all you can say is '_shit'_? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Madison is practically squaring up to the shorter girl now and I take the opportunity to pull her back slightly.

"Calm down Maddy," I mumble, wracking my brain for a way to sort this out. Ashley looks like she's about to cry.

"I will not calm the fuck down," Madison screams shrilly, "She's a backstabbing, two faced _bitch_ who wiggles into _our_ group and kisses _my_ guy _behind_ my back."

Then it hits me; I'm expected to side with Madison.

I mean, I always do when bitches piss the Latina off. She's my best friend. Of course I'd take her side on anything. But Ashley's…a kind of friend-like thing, isn't she? At least, we probably could be if I made the effort and she was a little less annoying.

Madison begins mouthing off again and Ashley's desperate wide eyes turn to me, begging me to stand up for her too. But my mouth has a mind of its own; as if on autopilot it begins reinforcing Madison's insults, a stream of abuse against the small brunette tumbles from my mouth before I can stop it, because I've never said a word against the Latina and so I've become unsure as to how.

I barely recognise my own voice, barely register the words spilling from my tongue and mixing with Madison's. "…slut…whore…loser…waster…geek…wannabe…bitch…pathetic…user…" A whole string of profanities all directed at her.

Hurt flashes across Ashley's eyes and a lone tear trickles down her cheek as she crumples the page in her own fist, grabs her bag and turns wordlessly. She hurries away but not before I hear a small sob escape her.

My eyes turn to Madison who has a triumphant smile on her face. It fades as Aiden approaches. With an evil glare towards the tall boy she turns and leaves.

I hurry in the direction Ashley disappeared into.

The petite girl is found not long after in a deserted alleyway by the school where the bins are kept. She's slumped on the ground, her back against the brick wall and her knees pulled up against her chest, snivelling with the paper still balled up in her hand.

She hears my approaching footsteps and quickly whips her head around hastily wiping the tears from her eyes. She deflates when she sees that it was me who found her and slowly climbs to her feet.

"Go away, Spencer," she says in a thick voice, her head bowed low.

"I-I, no, I'm-"

"Don't you dare," she spits, her sadness replaced by anger in a split second. "Don't you dare apologise. You said what you did and you meant every word."

"I trusted you," she yells, her eyes boring directly into mine and I find myself unable to look away. "Call me crazy but I trusted you. And look what you did to me!" She waves the page in my face. It's a magazine article, the majority filled with photographs. I recognise Ashley's red dress, the one she was wearing on those nights out. "You turned me into…"she scans the article briefly, "A '_drunk_, _drugged diva'_!" She eyes the paper in disgust. "Now everyone thinks I'm some kind of mess, when all I wanted was to fit in around here. This," she brandishes the crumpled article at me, "This in _you,_ is _your_ life. Not mine. I don't get drunk at clubs, or take drugs, or lose my virginity to random guys in grimy toilets," She's crying in earnest now, "Or get into drunken brawls, or don't come home for days, or smoke or…" she seems at a loss for what to say. Instead, she settles for a frustrated groan.

"I'm sorry if I used you to gain a little popularity," she picks her bag up from the floor, "But you we're using me too." She shoves the article into my hand.

"Enjoy your moment of fame," she states harshly.

And with that she's gone. And I'm left standing alone with the crumpled paper and a feeling of utter emptiness.

* * *

><p>I feel suddenly lighter, as if a million tonne weight has been lifted from my chest and thrown directly at Spencer when I blew up at her.<p>

I didn't stay in school after that. I walked home, as I had been doing the entire week, with more of a bounce in my step since I first got here.

Upon entering my house I immediately sprinted up the stairs and into my room, wrenching open my wardrobe and hauling any items of clothing that may have been influenced by either Spencer or Madison. Only a few of the 'new' tops remain, those lucky few being personal favourites of mine. I decided to keep most of the shorts and skirts, because this is California and it's too hot for jeans most of the time, but removed the skimpiest and flashiest ones.

Looking around my room, not all the frustration having left me yet, I begin to tear down the posters from my walls, the photos lying around and tossed into a pile, any little notes littering my mirror are binned. Coming to the conclusion that I'm going to start completely afresh, being neither the loner I was before nor the slut people think I am no, I begin moving the furniture out of my room, deciding that a redecoration is in order.

Having worked up quite a sweat doing that and realising how late it's got due to the darkening sky, I grab fresh underwear and an oversized t-shirt and shorts for bed and lock myself in the bathroom. The water is hot and clouds of steam billow from behind the shower curtain. The water almost scalds my skin but the heat feels good; soothing, cleansing.

I scour at my skin until all the fake tan had been removed and all that colours me now are the red marks left from consistent scrubbing. I step out of that shower a new person.

The morning arrived, bringing with it a warm sunshine and a rush of adrenaline on my behalf. I decide to go for a run, an outlet in which to quell the energy inside me. I jog down the road, my breaths releasing in short pants in sync with my footsteps.

Music blasts in my ears as I turn the volume up on my iPod, effectively diminishing any noise from elsewhere.

The exercise feels good. As does the quick shower that follows when I return home.

Feeling refreshed, I amble to school, enjoying the sunshine more as I become more acclimatised with the heat.

"And you never realised she was using you?" Clay asks, for the umpteenth time since I sat beside him and Chelsea.

"No!" I exclaim, sticking my fork angrily into a mound of fries and causing them to scatter off the plate and across the table.

Chelsea and Clay are an alarmingly perceptive couple, and immediately picked up on my sudden change of attitude, style and distance from Spencer and Madison. As soon as my tray hit the table the pair began bombarding me with questions about my new-found resolve.

"Those two," Chelsea eyed the blonde and the Latina across the lunch hall, "They're a pair of gold-diggers if I ever saw one."

I groan in frustration, allowing my head to sink into my hands. _Why didn't I realise this before?_

"Still I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did," Chelsea continues, stealing a fry off my plate and popping it in her mouth. She chews for a second before continuing, oblivious of the fact my head just snapped up so fast I nearly broke it. "I mean, they're the top of the pecking order in this school. People try to worm their way in with them all the time. They only ever last a few days, but _you_, you lasted weeks, I thought you may have finally broke them."

"Broke them?" I repeat in an incredulous tone, "Chelsea, the world thinks I'm in _rehab_ because of them!"

"I'm not excusing what they did,_" _the dark girl reasons, frowning at the pair in question across the room, "But I'm just saying that no-one has ever made it to school in the back of Spencer Carlin's car before…"

The girl trails off as the heavy footsteps of Aiden Dennison approached. He smiles awkwardly at the couple before turning his attention to me.

"Hey Ash," he slides into the seat next to me and snakes his arm around me, placing a small kiss on my cheek. My face falls into a frown.

"Aiden," I mumble quietly, "What are you doing?"

The smile falls off his face and he looks slightly confused for a moment.

"We're…I mean we…at the club…" he rambles, his eyes widening in desperation and the pink stain of embarrassment begins to coat his cheeks.

I sigh, knowing this was bound to come up at some point. "Aiden, what happened at the club…I was so drunk, and it was fun, but I can't. I'm so sorry…" I cringe at my own words and Aiden scoots away from me, his arm dropping from my waist and falling lifelessly to his side.

"So what? You just lead me on?" I can hear the hurt in his voice but I can't look into his eyes. "I can't believe I gave up Madison for this…"

"Gave her up? You didn't have her to start with," I argue back, annoyed that I'm suddenly the bad guy in all this. "She's out doing the same thing to you every night Aiden."

He stares angrily at me for a moment, before rising from his seat and storming off again.

I drop my head to my hands, wondering when life got so damn difficult.

"Did you just blow off Aiden Dennison?" Chelsea's voice is full of disbelief and shock. I raise my head to meet her wide eyed gaze.

"I guess?" I'm confused as to what she's getting at.

"But he's the most sought after guy in this school," she continues. Clay looks slightly put out. "I mean, girls throw themselves at him and he's all over you and you just reject him without a second thought?"

I shrug indifferently. Aiden never interested me in that way.

"Who's got your heart Ashley Davies?" Chelsea asks softly.

I don't reply as my eyes lock onto the tall blonde girl my brain is willing me to stay away from.

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><p>Still feeling dishevelled from my shouting match with Ashley yesterday (I say shouting match, I mean <em>her<em> shouting at _me_ while I mumble feebly like a pathetic loser) I opt to get the bus today. The sun is shining brightly as I pull the front door closed behind me but its rays do little to penetrate my sombre mood, nor do they melt away the numbness I feel. It's silly really; I figure I'm only upset because no one has ever shouted at me before, not even my parents shout.

I sigh heavily, adjusting my school bag on my shoulder. Lifting my eyes up from watching my feet on the pavement I amble slowly towards the bus stop, my legs dragging uncharacteristically and I realise that if they keep this up then cheer practice later is going to be a bitch.

Her chestnut hair catches my eye immediately as she jogs down the road slightly ahead of me.

"Ashley!" I call out, waving my hand in the air in an attempt to capture her attention. I feel the need to apologise, simply because I'm popular and right now it seems as if she's the only person who doesn't like me and that's bad for my rep. _Yeah, and it's not because she simply hates you._

She doesn't hear, instead she pushed the ear bud of her iPod further into her ear and continues down the road. I stand at the bus stop and watch her go; momentarily awed by the way her body moves and wonder why I never noticed the way she moved before…

Frankly, the bus journey is rather dull. I spend the majority of the ride with my earphones in and the volume up full. A snotty middle aged man glares at me the entire time, no doubt because he can also hear the music blasting into my ears. I have yet to conjugate a plausible reason behind why all the songs I chose to listen to on this particular morning are all wholly depressing.

I jump off a stop early, as usual, and enter Starbucks, as usual. I flirt a little with the barista, as usual, but only order one coffee this morning, figuring Madison can get her own bloody coffee because my bad mood is entirely her fault.

How, you say?

I have no idea, but I feel the need to blame someone other than myself. I'll self-destruct otherwise.

I walk the rest of the distance to school sipping coffee and occasionally pulling my phone out of my pocket. At this hour I'd normally be having a conversation with Madison or maybe Ashley over texts, and while I know no messages are coming from either of them, it's comforting to check once in a while. I disguise this from myself by checking the time as well before returning the phone to my pocket.

School passes in an annoyingly uneventful block of time and fail to speak to Ashley the entire day. Madison makes small talk from time to time but my answers are monosyllabic, my mind too preoccupied to become engaged in conversation with her. I do spot the brunette at lunch however, her chocolate eyes glued to me until she notices me noticing her and she quickly switches her attention to the dark girl conversing with her; Chelsea Lewis. She's nice enough, I don't know her that well though.

And suddenly a scheme starts unfolding in my mind, and I never realised I was that desperate but apparently a week of not talking to Ashley Davies will turn you absolutely crazy. I realise with a start that it's the type of scheme to get you reacquainted with a ex-lover –befriend their friends, regain their attention…it's practically stalking –but then I remember the fuzzy image of our lips connecting at that club, and though it was only brief while I slipped a pill onto her tongue I knew full well at the time that I wanted to, and that I initiated that kiss. I then realise with a stab of panic that my feelings for Ashley may delve a little further than platonic.

Still, I begin to set my scheme into motion, smiling friendly at Chelsea as she passes in the hall, because I'd rather have Ashley as a friend even if I do have a slight crush on her. I enter the English classroom and sit down, eyes immediately seeking the brunette plaguing my thoughts. Ashley sits two seats in front of me and one to the left, giving me a perfect view of her as she retrieves her books from her bag.

It seems in recent light of my new revelation I notice things about Ashley that I never realised before; like how cute she looks in her glasses and the way she pushes them further up her nose. Or the way she rhythmically taps her fingers against the desk to a beat locked inside her head.

"…Miss Carlin, your attention please?" The teacher remarks from the front of the room in his oily voice and I scowl at him as he continues the lesson. "And so you will all be paired up-no, I will choose your partners-and give a presentation and essay on Shakespeare's '_Romeo and Juliette'_. The topic can be entirely your own but you must include evidence, that is quotations, and explanations on each point you make…"

I forget to listen to the rest of him speech, his droning voice driving me to insanity. I sigh heavily, resting my head in my hands with a muffled groan. I hate Shakespeare. And I'm shit at Literature. I'm going to need one hell of a good partner to pull me though this.

"…Carlin and Ashley Davies…"

I jerk my head upwards in surprise.

I watch Ashley's shoulders slump downwards but my own heart beat begins to race.

As the rest of the class moves around to sit with their designated partners I hesitantly rise from my seat and apprehensively approach the brunette.

She stares blankly as my for a moment as I hover awkwardly above her.

"Well, sit."

I'm taken aback by her bluntness but immediately pull a chair over from the neighbouring table and sink into it, scuffing it across the ground until I'm a reasonable distance from her while inclining my chair to an angle so I'm not fully facing her.

"Please tell me this god-awful partnership will be redeemed by the fact that you're outstanding at writing essays," she says in a dead voice full of annoyance and desperation.

"Nope."

She sighs, casting her eyes skywards whilst emitting a loud and irritated huff.

"Fate obviously hates me…"

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><p><strong>I heard that review button was lonely...<strong>

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	8. Chapter 8

**I am _so_ sorry for the delay, I intended to upload a chapter before i went on holiday but it never happened, then when I got back last week I was too preoccupied worrying over my exam results to write one quickly, that's also why this chapter is so short...I lost my muse and decided to just upload what I have so far rather than keep you guys waiting any longer!**

**Forgive me?**

**Again, apologies for the shortness/general shittyness of this chapter...my mind was elsewhere. Hope you enjoy none the less!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Mind still reeling, probing my thoughts for a time where I may have pissed off whatever Gods are up there, I walk home with my feet thumping angrily against the curb, cursing the chances that I would be paired up with _Spencer Carlin_ for our English assignment.

Opening my bedroom door with more force than needed and ignoring the terrible sound of it clashing against the opposite wall, I dump my bag on the ground with a loud _thud_ and launch myself onto my bed, letting out an elongated scream of frustration.

"Ashley?"

I jump, consequently falling off my bed with a yelp.

Kayla stands in the doorway, her face a mixture of concern and amusement. She leans against the doorframe, her arms folded, one hand clutching that awful magazine article that basically ruined my life.

"Girl, you've got yourself in a right mess haven't you?"

Having scrambled quickly to my feet, I stand by the side of my bed, looking down at my feet like a child being scolded for stealing cookies. I nod my head once, unwilling to look into my sister's face and see the same disappointment that has been etched on my dad's face ever since that bloody article was published.

Unexpectedly, and to my utmost relief, Kayla lets out a bark of laughter, closing the short distance between us and engulfing me in a warm and welcomed hug. I realise that I've been too caught up in my own personal misery to remember that Kayla was due home and just how much I've missed her.

"I leave you for a few days and all hell breaks loose," she ruffles my hair affectionately and I don't even bother to chastise her for it because I've missed human contact within the walls of this house. Her voice drops and she looks me dead in the eye, a playful sparkle in hers. "I knew you'd take after your big sister…"

And she winks and leaves my room proclaiming her need to unpack and do some 'd_amage control_'. Needless to say my mood has improved vastly in the last few minutes.

In fact, the mood of the whole house picked up after Kayla's arrival home. My dad began talking to me, helped me put my scooter back together and even assisted in clearing some of the furniture from my room, which I still have plans to redecorate.

The only thing dampening my mood is my forced interaction with Spencer every English class. We're so far behind on our essay it's beginning to worry me. Spencer is, well, Spencer. I doubt she's worrying about an English grade; she'll probably pay her way out of high school anyway. I sigh miserably as I tap my pen against the blank page in front of me, raking my brains for an idea, a theme, hell even one of Shakespeare's works to begin analyzing…

With a groan I sink into my chair, the deadline date looming ever closer.

After a fitful night sleep and a rather boring few classes I find myself in English class once again. Spencer is slouching in her chair, fidgeting with her pencil. I stare at Spencer, unsure which emotion is stronger right now; utter frustration at her lack of co-operation or sheer hatred because it's her fault we're in this mess in the first place.

An entire class passes while neither of us speak a word to each other, and I grimace at the thought that another day has passed without any progress on this. '_This_' being the entire situation not just the darned essay…I guess I was foolish enough to think Spencer would stop being a bitch just long enough to work with me through this project, I thought we bonded enough for her to realise that grades mean a lot to me. I guess she never really cared at all.

The bell rings and I sigh as Spencer leaps from her chair, having never actually bothered to unpack her bag in the first place. I become overwhelmed by an unwarranted urge to go after her, and I do. I don't want to but my legs move and eventually I catch up with her as she turns down a deserted corridor.

"Spencer," I reach out and grab her shoulder, spinning her around to face me. Her face remains expressionless and she merely folds her arms, eyes focusing somewhere over my shoulder.

"We have to work together on this project okay?" I decide to allow her attitude to slide for now, and plough on with my intentions for seeking her out. "We can't keep ignoring each other, we're not getting anything done…we haven't even started! We're ridiculously far behind and just this once I need you to stop being a _heartless bitch_ and work with me! I need this grade…"

I trail off uncertainly, her eyes have finally snapped to mine and she remains stoic for a few moments. I realise my hand is still resting on her shoulder and I hurriedly remove it.

"You think I'm a heartless bitch?" she asks after a tense silence.

"Ye-I uh…" I stumble over my words. I hesitate. I want to scream at her how much I _do_ think she's a heartless bitch, how much I hate her right now and how much I had anyone else but her as my partner, but I can't force the words out of my mouth because something changes in her eyes. My stuttering is enough for her though and she swiftly turns on her heel and walks away, down the hallway and out of sight.

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><p>I'm hurt.<p>

It's a strange feeling, I usually allow people insults to bounce right off me but this is different. Sure I've been called heartless before, a bitch as well but it's more the fact that they came from Ashley's mouth than anyone else's. I always saw her as so pure, always seeing the good in everyone. I guess there's just no good left in me.

I sigh heavily, leaning my head against the cool window pane as I watch the stars flicker in the darkness of the night.

For some reason her words pierced right through me, maybe because I've just been told that too many times now. Maybe it was because I was always hoping for some form of forgiveness from her. I'm still crushing on her, and often wonder why I'm not studying my ass off for this essay as a means to get into her good book, but her cold demeanour towards me dampened my spirits when we we're paired together and I simply couldn't will myself to make such an effort for nothing.

Now every last hope I ever bore has been dashed because I'm such a _heartless bitch._

I strain to keep my eyes open, unwilling to allow them to close because in the state between being awake and sound asleep I find myself picturing ways to get her to talk to me again. Just to talk to me, sometimes more when I'm feeling extra pathetic, but pleasant conversation between the two of us would put a skip in my step right now…

"God, I'm such an ass," I groan, my breath fogging up the window.

I know she wants this grade to be good; she didn't have to tell me that. She has an air of wanting to achieve when she walks into a classroom, I see that about her. Then I look at myself, underachieving, not caring about school, not even bothering to turn up to class on some occasions and I realise that her being paired up with me had basically killed her grade.

I hate myself for that…

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><p>My fists clench in anger, my jaw set tightly and my nostrils flared as my eyes stay glued to the clock at the front of the classroom. Seven minutes late…eight minutes late…I hate her. Probably hasn't even bothered turning up to school at all never mind English class. It was a stupid idea to tell her how much this grade means to me, just gave her another aspect of my life to sabotage.<p>

Twelve minutes late…

The door suddenly flings open. The teacher is to stunned reprimand her lateness, I'm so shocked I forget my anger, the whole class falls silent as Spencer staggers towards me, arms laden with various books and pages all balanced in a haphazard pile in her hands. She dumps the pile on the desk with a puff of breath and a thud and she gingerly shakes her arms out. Given the way the table has just creaked beneath them, I'm sure the books we're a dead weight.

"I have no idea how to research shit," she says without looking at me. Instead she picks up a book and begins flicking though it. "But I got all these because they mention Shakespeare in some way and I figured you could do the studying part and I could make useless ideas." Her uncertain gaze finally lands on me and she inclines her head slightly.

This is her peace offering. I understand.

I return a small smile and begin searching the titles of the books for a place to start. I don't care than I will probably have to haul all these books home, nor the fact that Spencer implied that I will probably do all the work for us, I'm just glad that progress is finally being made.

In the middle of my vigorous note-making Spencer suddenly looks up from the book in her hands.

"I'm sorry," she blurts, eyes down and shoulders slumped.

I frown, my hand freezes mid-sentence.

"For what?"

"You know, the magazine thing…didn't think it would get so out of hand, and for being such a, um…'heartless bitch'…" she uses air quotes with her fingers and her voice shakes a little and it tugs at my heart strings and I smile sympathetically and rest my hand atop hers for a brief moment, squeezing it gently before returning my attention to the book before me.

I watch her face light up a little out of the corner of my eye.

When the bell rings for the end of class, I begin to pack the enormous pile of books into my bag. Spencer hurriedly grabs a handful and thrusts them into her own bag. At my look of confusion she shrugs, "Now we have an excuse to work together…outside the classroom?" Her statement turns into more of a question as my eyebrows arch upwards in disbelief.

"Are you making an effort Carlin?" I ask playfully.

She seems shocked for a second. "Yeah, I guess I am…"

I chuckle lightly and head to the door, she hurries to catch up with me.

I turn a sceptical eye to her as we leave the classroom.

"Are you walking with me? Like, in the corridors, where people can see you?"

"Yeah, apparently," her eyes remain straight ahead of her as she answers.

I snort, "But I'm, you know, looking _far _too nerdy to be seen with the queen bitch," I smirk towards her to let her know that I'm joking.

Her gaze is as steady as her voice when she replies.

"I think you look kind of cute…"

And with that she darts into her next class and I'm left to stand in the hallway alone, surrounded by the crowds of students who failed to see Spencer Carlin check me out...

The rest of the week passes relatively smoothly. Aside from the usual death glares from Madison and occasion glower from Aiden of course. But I can easily ignore them, concentration on school work, Chelsea and Clay, and Spencer too.

Although the bothers me that our encounters beyond the English classroom are brief, I am glad that she's making an effort.

"This doesn't mean we're friends," I warn her at least once a day. She usually laughs good-naturedly. I find myself heeding my own warning more and more as the week progresses. We talk. We talk more than we did when we were "friends" at the beginning. I know stuff about her now, and she knows things about me. I sometimes see a side of her I didn't know existed and then it disappears behind her bitchy exterior when someone does something to annoy her…

"Ash?" Spencer nudges my side, bobbing her head towards the clock and I realise that everyone is packing up, that the bell had rang for the end of the day and I was too lost in thoughts to notice. She chuckles as I shake my head, clearing it a little and begin gathering my own things.

My bag feels lighter than it did during school but I shrug it off as I walk home, humming a little tune in my head and feeling in an uncharacteristically cheery mood. Pushing open the front door my eyes immediately lock onto two large cans of paint and a paintbrush and a scribbled hand-written note saying '_Love dad'_ balancing on the top. I chuckle at my father's antics, grab the cans and head upstairs.

My room is completely bare except for a mattress lying in the middle of the floor and a couple of schoolbooks resting on top of it along with a duvet and two pillows. I change into old clothes, things I won't mind getting dirty, and crack open the tins.

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><p>Ashley's house looks as daunting as ever as I slowly approach the drive, clutching the textbooks from English class a little closer to my chest, despite the fact that it is blatantly deserted. Well, almost deserted; Ashley's home alone because her bedroom window is open and there are the faint whisperings of music coming from within. I raise my knuckles and knock gently on the door. It swings open. Yeah, like something out of a horror film when you scream at the person to not step inside the house.<p>

Well, I'm now the idiotic person who does that.

The music is slightly louder in the hall, a faint beat disrupting the stillness of the house. Ashley's school bag lies deserted at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ash?" I call into the silence.

I didn't expect an answered. All situations like this are typically clichéd. I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other for several minutes, contemplating whether to call back again later. Her family could be home later though, and I'd rather not cross them after…you know…I could just_ not_ give her the books, but I know she needs them if any progress is to be made on our assignment…

Gulping rather loudly, I hesitantly raise one foot to the bottom stair and slowly ascend, the music getting gradually louder with each upwards step. Ashley's bedroom door lies open, a strong stench of paint wafting from within.

"Explains the open window," I mumble whilst trying not to choke on the fumes. My eyes lock on to Ashley, prancing around in a pair of faded grey sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt, a baggy hooded black jacket hanging from her shoulders.

I clear my throat in a pathetic attempt to catch her attention, even rap on her door. Call out to her but she fails to hear me above the music which I realise she's singing along to. I fight valiantly against the urge to laugh.

"Taakeee on meee! Taakeee meee on!" The brunette hollers, although the sound isn't exactly unpleasant. The delicate voice is just straining to be heard above the sheer volume of music coming from the speakers nearby, interrupted by light pants of breath as she dances along, and occasionally stretching upwards to glide the paint brush along the wall.

"Ash?" I've managed to walk right into the room now, practically standing behind the brown haired girl before she finally notices me. _God, this girl is oblivious._ Immediately, Ashley's cheeks turn a delicate pink shade, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlamps or a child caught stealing cookies from the jar. I smirk down at her, before gently picking out some of the white paint which has splattered into her bangs and pulling her hood up over her hair to stop anymore white drops from sprinkling her dark locks, as if it were snowing in this very room.

"Brought your books back," I say after a moments silence. '_Take on me_' has ended, leaving the room in eerie silence, as if awaiting to see what will possibly happen before the next song interrupts.

"Th-thanks," the smaller girl stutters, taking the books from my hands and allowing our fingers to brush far longer than necessary.

"Best be off," I turn to go, trying to hide my smile from the girl, "Can't be having Papa Davies finding me trying to corrupt his princess again."

And I'm down the stairs and out the door before she even says "Bye."

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**Well thats it for today, i promise i'll not take any elongated breaks without informing you, my lovely readers, first! :D i'll try update as soon as possible but I dont know exactly how soon that will be, I plan a long weekend of partying to celebrate my results and then school starts back relatively soon as well but hey! **

**Thoughts and opinions always welcome!**

**Peace.**


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